


a sunday kind of love

by alnima



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Architect Zayn, Enemies to Lovers, Inspired by a Movie, Kid Fic, M/M, Past Harry/Daisy Lowe, Past Zayn/Original Male, Single Parents, Strangers to Lovers, Writer Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-22 21:59:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10705977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alnima/pseuds/alnima
Summary: “It seems that we have the wrong phones,” Harry says, fiddling with his straw as he listens to Zayn sigh.“It would appear that way,” Zayn agrees. “Your boss called. He wants you to get into work.”“Well, your mom called and she wants us to get married.”Zayn snorts. “Shut up.” But Harry can hear him laughing, and yeah, that’s right. He made Zayn laugh. “What are going to do about these phones?”“We can switch them at our wedding,” Harry suggests.A One Fine Day AU





	a sunday kind of love

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this a year ago, and I'm beyond happy to see it finally out in the world. Thank you to Leigh, who made the wonderful collage on the tumblr post, as well as the title art just below. There so many options and edits and versions of everything that and I am completely blown away by it all. I'm beyond lucky that I was able to work with a friend with this one, as it was so much fun. Leigh was also kind enough to pick through here and clean up some of my mistakes, please excuse any remaining ones, as they are all my own. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this!
> 
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Zayn rubs tiredly at his eyes as the confirmation screen flashes on his laptop; another bill paid and several dollars lost. But it’s one less thing on his impossibly long list of things to do before he can go to sleep. He shuts the laptop down and stands, groaning at the ache in his knees, before he drags himself towards the kitchen.

He needs to make lunch for Ciara. If he waits, then there’s a chance that he’ll forget, and she’s going on that field trip tomorrow, so if he forgets then she’ll starve. Well, her teacher won’t let her starve, but he’ll feel like absolute shit about it, so he drags himself through his apartment to get it done.

Oh god, he’s exhausted.

He still needs to go over his presentation for his meeting in the morning and pack Ciara’s bag. There’s a forecast for rain tomorrow, different showers periodically throughout the day, and Ciara doesn’t like getting her hair wet, so he’ll need to remember a hat, or no. He just bought her that pink raincoat with the hood that she likes, the one that matches the flowers on her rain boots. She can wear that.

He quickly packs her a sandwich with an apple, a little bowl of grapes and strawberries, the vegetables that he cooked for dinner tonight, and because he’s a great father, a couple cookies. It’s a lot and her lunch box comes home empty every day, but Zayn’s still convinced she’s not eating enough. She never is. Besides, it’s a field trip; she’ll need the snacks. And maybe another kid won’t have lunch, so it’s better he packs her too much.

Maybe in the morning he’ll add a banana; she does eat those. He tucks two bottles of juice in the bottom part and zips it up, tossing it in the fridge.

“Snap out of it,” Zayn murmurs, rubbing at his face when his feels his eyes are starting to burn with the need for sleep. He needs to think about work. He needs to do work.

Zayn flicks off the kitchen light as he leaves the room, along with the rest of the lights in the apartment, before he wanders down the hall towards his room, bare feet cold against the hardwood. He narrowly avoids tripping over one of Ciara’s toys in the darkened hall.

There’s a light on at the end of the hall and he sighs to himself, smiling fondly when he pushes open Ciara’s bedroom door. She’s fast asleep in bed, curled up in a ball, with a book lying on her chest. She must have gotten it after Zayn tucked her in, after he disappeared to the living room for the night.

Zayn moves quietly across the room and grabs the book, setting it down on the end table before he pulls her princess blanket up to her chin, smoothing it out around her.

He’s always loved watching her sleep, loves how her face smooths out. She always seems at peace, so innocent, even after days where she’s not in her best mood.

Zayn smiles at her and then leans down, kissing her quickly on the cheek, before he flicks her light off. Before he goes, he turns on her night-light, knowing she’ll wake up scared if it’s not on.

And then, finally, it’s his turn to get into bed.

If only it was his time to sleep.

“Okay,” he mumbles, grabbing the papers off the side of his bed. “Let’s see. Right. Where was I?”

Zayn works as an architect downtown, not an official one. He doesn’t own his own firm or anything, but he’s a designer for a big name in the city, hand selected by his boss to help create the next big set of green apartments here in the city.

Apparently their client is big on this sort of thing, the green living, and wants to try refurbishing older apartment buildings to meet the new, green standards of today. It’s mostly a bunch of solar panels and making sure that the design materials are environmentally safe, along with planting more trees than necessary, in Zayn’s opinion.

Not that you can have too many trees, but…still. He thinks one every five feet might be a bit too much, especially once they grow and start to take up more space.

But that’s beside the point.

He needs to study, because there’s not a thing he knows about green building materials, nor does he know how to talk to his clients like he does; hence, the studying. Honestly, he only needs to impress Louis; if he can impress him, then Louis will take over everything else.

As life would have it, just as soon as he’s settled into bed and finally doing what he needs to, there comes a shout of his name. Once and then twice, three times before he closes his eyes, setting the papers on his end table so he can follow the little voice.

“Baba, I need some water.”

Zayn turns the light on and stares at his daughter, eyebrow cocked as he leans against the doorframe. “You were just sleeping.”

“Your scratchy beard woke me up,” Ciara says, smoothing out her blanket, eyes squinting against the light. “I’m really thirsty, Baba.”

“Yeah, all right,” he mumbles. He gets her a glass of water and watches as she drains the glass slowly, staring at him with big brown eyes as he waits for her. She finishes and hands him back the glass, moving to lie down. “You need to get to sleep, you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

“I can’t sleep,” she says and Zayn sighs, sitting down on the edge of her bed to listen to her. “I’m really excited about tomorrow, Baba. And I just… I can’t sleep.”

“I know you are, but you’re going to be so tired if you don’t, babes.”

“Yeah. I have my field trip _and_ my soccer game.”

“You have a lot to do tomorrow, so you’ll need your rest, which is why you should still be sleeping,” he mutters, tickling her ribs. She laughs, rolling onto her side and pressing her cheek into her pillow. “Do you think that you can try and sleep now?”

“Yeah,” she says, smiling at him. “Wait, Baba. Do you think Daddy will come tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, babe. We’ll have to call him. I know he was out of the country two days ago when he called, remember?” Ciara nods and blinks at him, but she doesn’t look tired, not like she should be, and he knows that means several more trips of getting her water and listening to how excited she is for her day tomorrow. And well, he really could use an excuse to stop working himself. “All right,” he sighs, like he’s back himself into a corner and he can’t get out of it unless he does this, “you want to sleep with me tonight?”

Ciara grins and nods, tossing off the blanket and rushing towards his room like that’s what she wanted all along, like she was waiting for him to offer. He laughs as he shuts down her room, following behind her.

She’s burying herself beneath his blankets, lying on his side of the bed with her eyes closed when he finally makes it in.

<><>

Zayn feels like he’s forgetting something.

He’s not sure what it could be or if the feeling is even right, but he’s forgetting something.

Zayn’s got all his papers sorted and next to the door, tucked safely into his briefcase so that nothing can happen to them. And he’s already put Ciara’s raincoat and lunch into her bag, but there has to be something.

“Baba, you need to eat,” a tiny voice says and he laughs because she sounds just like him sometimes…most of the time, even if she doesn’t look like him.

She looks just like the mother that helped him and Derek have her, the same rich, dark brown eyes that Zayn remembers so much, along with the curly hair.

Her hair. That’s what he forgot.

“Baba’s going to do your hair first. You said you wanted it in pigtails, right? You want braids, or?”

“No. Baba, stop,” Ciara whines, swatting at his hands as he touches her hair.

Zayn frowns. “What’s wrong?” He moves his hands away from her hair, holding them up. “I thought you liked pigtails?”

Pigtails have been the latest craze with Ciara. She’s constantly demanding he do her hair that way, leaving them in tiny poofs on the side of her head or braiding them. She loves them.

She huffs, sticking a spoonful of food into her mouth. “I do, but I don’t want them.”

“What do you want, then?”

“I want to use my headband.”

“What headband?”

“The one Daddy got me.”

 _Oh,_ Zayn thinks, nodding. He has no idea what headband she’s talking about, but he’s not going to force her to do something with her hair that she doesn’t want. And he’s not going to let her think he has no clue what she’s talking about, either.

“Do you know how to put it on?” She nods and he thinks all right then, one less thing to worry about this morning.

As he pours himself a bowl of cereal, the feeling that he’s forgotten something begins to slowly melt away, causing him to sigh as he takes a seat next to his daughter.

“And you know what, Baba?”

“What?” Zayn asks, watching as a smile spreads across his daughter’s face.

“Daddy does pigtails better than you do,” she laughs, wiping at the milk on her chin.

“Daddy does a lot of things better than I do,” Zayn confirms, because it’s true. He’s not awful at doing her hair, but Derek is a natural for it. But Ciara doesn’t complain, and she’s never come home with stories about kids saying something about her hair, so he thinks that he’s doing an all right job of it.

“That’s why he’s a daddy,” Ciara tells him, nodding decidedly. Zayn hums, silently voicing his agreement. “Baba, have you ever been on a boat before?”

“I have. Are you excited to go on one?”

She nods and takes another bite of her meal. “Do you think it’s big?”

“I know that it’s big. Remember the pictures? It looked huge.”

Ciara nods and looks down at her cereal for a moment before she says, “and it’s safe, right?” She looks up at him out of the corner of her eyes, worry hidden in her features.

“Baba wouldn’t let you on it if it wasn’t,” he says, crossing his heart. She seems to like that, grinning at him before she goes back to her cereal.

They eat together in silence after that, and somehow, starting nearly fifteen minutes after she did, Zayn finishes first. He taps his foot and stares at the clock, they’re going to be cutting it close if she doesn’t hurry up and finish.

They still need to get her dressed and find her rain boots, wherever she’s thrown them at in her closet, or his closet. He did find one of her ballerina slippers in there the other day.

“Babes, you’ve got to finish eating. We still have to get you dressed and then we’re supposed to get your friend Ruby. Are you excited about seeing her?” Zayn asks and Ciara frowns, shaking her head.

“I don’t like Ruby,” she says. “She thinks that she’s funny, but she’s not. She tells bad jokes, _all_ the time.”

“That’s not very nice of you,” Zayn scolds, frowning. “I thought you two were friends?”

Ciara shrugs and then pushes her bowl away, jumping down off her chair. “I’m going to get dressed now.”

Zayn stares at the clock again. They are _really_ cutting it close this morning.

<>

Zayn smiles down at Ciara as he knocks on the door in front of him once more. They’ve already triple checked that they’re at the right place, reading over the text that he got from Ruby’s mother three times before they got here.

“Where do you think Ruby is?” Zayn asks, continuing his knocking, as he looks down at his daughter.

Ciara shrugs. “Her mommy said that we needed to get her. That’s all I know. You should try banging on the door.”

“No,” Zayn mutters, shaking his head. “I’m not going to bang on someone else’s door. That’s not nice.”

Ciara sighs and rolls her eyes at him, reaching up to knock on the door. Zayn looks around the hall, checking to see if anyone is around before he starts knocking with his daughter. He doesn’t know if maybe Ruby or her father is hard of hearing, or if maybe they’re still sleeping. He really doesn’t know why neither of them will open the door.

Surely they know that he’s coming, surely they know that it’s eight in the morning on a school day and they don’t have time for these kind of games.

“Baba, we’re going to be late,” Ciara whines, ceasing her knocking on the door to sigh and look up at him sadly.

Zayn rubs at his face, checking the watch on his wrist before he sighs. She’s right. Of course she is. “Yeah. All right. Maybe they left already and forgot to tell us. Okay, come on. Let’s go,” he says, taking her hand once more.

“I told you that she’s not funny,” Ciara says, like them knocking on the door was some kind of joke to her friend.

“Yeah, yeah I heard you,” Zayn mutters, staring at his watch again and wondering how quickly they can get to her school without him having to put her on the bus himself as it’s rolling out of the school parking lot.

<><><>

Harry groans, shoving his face further into his pillow. There’s a noise, an odd sort of banging that he really wishes would stop at – Harry lifts his head up to check the time, groaning again – seven in the morning. It doesn’t, and as Harry lies there, he realizes that the banging is someone knocking on his door.

“All right,” he shouts, standing and slipping on a pair of boxers and a shirt. He doesn’t know who is behind the door so he can’t risk opening it in the nude. “I’m coming.”

Harry barely has the door open before there’s a small body slamming into him and his ex is there, helping herself into his place as well.

“What’s going on?” Harry asks, wrapping his arms around his daughter and rubbing her back, smiling at her when she looks at him, her chin resting on his abdomen. “Everything okay?”

Ruby nods, letting go of him and bouncing off into the apartment. He watches her go before he turns around to look at Daisy. “You ever going to tell me what’s going on?”

Daisy looks at him like he should know, annoyed with him that he doesn’t. He blinks, shrugging when nothing comes to him, and she sighs, rolling her eyes. “Harry, I’m going to France for a week. You’re watching Ruby. Your daughter. You promised that you would.”

“Oh god, Daisy,” Harry groans, because he can’t. He just can’t. This week is ridiculously busy for him and as much as he wants to, as much as he wishes that he could spend an entire week with his daughter, it’s just not a good time. “Daisy, I’m so busy right now. I can’t. I can’t. I just…can’t.”

“There’s no other choice here, Harry. I won’t be home. Your parents are too far away and mine are busy, so they’re out of the question. And Harry, you’re her father. This is your responsibility. You’re going to take her.”

Harry sighs and nods, turning and smiling when he sees Ruby watching them carefully. She’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but he knows that she can read their body language enough to gather that the conversation isn’t entirely pleasant. Her eyes narrow as Daisy continues rambling behind her, so he blows her a kiss and winks at her, before he turns back around towards his ex, leaning against the wall so he can listen to her.

“I’ve written down the names of her doctors, emergency contacts that you can get a hold of, along with their telephone numbers,” Daisy says, pulling a stack of papers out of her purse. “There’s a babysitter in there, the one that I use, she’s really good. Call her if you need to. Don’t use one of your loser friends to watch her like last time.”

“What like last time?”

Daisy raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “Your daughter talks, Harry.”

“All right, yeah. It was an emergency, since those are so important to you,” he mutters, glancing at the papers she’s given him before he drops them down on the table. He doesn’t need to be told how to watch his daughter. He takes care of her; they have fun. He knows her doctors, her dentist, all of that good stuff.

“And listen, Harry. She has a fieldtrip at school today, I’ve already talked to my neighbor, and he said that he could take Ruby to school if you need him too. His name is Zayn Malik, I’ve written down his number on one of those papers, please call him if he doesn’t need to take her to school this morning so he doesn’t show up here anyway.”

“Why would he need to take her to school? I can do it.”

“Yeah, Daddy can do it,” Ruby says, wrapping herself around him again, shoving his arm out of the way so she can press against his side. “Are you arguing?”

“We’re not arguing, sweetheart,” Harry assures her, rubbing her back. “We’re just talking about your school, is all. Why don’t you go do something fun while we finish, hmm?”

Ruby looks at them both for a moment before she nods, rushing into Harry’s living room.

“Did you hear what I said about Zayn?”

“Yeah, call him if I need him to take her to school,” Harry says, tearing his eyes away from his daughter as she begins to jump on his couch, giggling madly. “I won’t be needing his services though, I’m perfectly capable of doing that.”

“I’m sure you are,” Daisy says and then she sighs, shaking her head. “Ruby, stop. That’s dangerous.”

“She’s fine. This is my house, she can do what she wants,” Harry decides. “Ruby, keep jumping.”

Daisy glares at him and she walks around him, moving towards their daughter. He watches as Ruby stops jumping momentarily to give her mother a hug and kiss. He can tell that Ruby is handling this better than Daisy is, which is a lot since Harry thinks that he might be handling this the worst. He has no idea how he’s going to juggle work and a week of his daughter. But he’ll manage.

He’ll figure it out.

“Please don’t fuck this up,” Daisy says, looking at him tiredly before she leaves. Harry rolls his eyes and closes the door, resting his head on it for a moment and taking a deep breath.

“All right,” Harry says, shaking off the weird feeling to smile at his daughter. “Did you eat breakfast?”

“Yeah, Mommy fed me when I woke up,” she says, dropping down with a huff on her butt. “She says you don’t have food here.”

“I do have food, actually,” Harry informs her. “And I haven’t eaten, so come on.”

Ruby nods and follows him into the kitchen. He points towards the table and has her sit down as he grabs a bowl and a box of cereal. Normally he doesn’t eat breakfast at home, but his daughter is here so he can make an exception to spend some time with her.

“Do you know what time your school starts?”

“I don’t know,” Ruby tells him. “Early.”

Harry nods as he pours the cereal into the bowl. “Probably about nine, I’d say. You're young, don’t most schools start that late?”

“I don’t know,” Ruby laughs. “You’re the daddy.”

“Right. Well. I say nine, so it’s nine. That’s how it works,” he tells her, smiling at her as he caps off the milk and takes his seat.

As far as having his daughter for a total of five minutes, Harry thinks they’re doing all right, Daisy’s emergency contact list be damned.

<>

Harry winces when Ruby tugs on one of his curls, adjusting her body on his shoulders so she doesn’t feel like she’s falling off. Anything to keep her from ripping out a chunk of hair and dropping it onto the pavement. It was her idea to get on his shoulders, wanting to see over the crowd, as they made their way to her school.

“Daddy,” Ruby says, lowering her head down so her blonde hair falls in front of Harry’s eyes, trying to get a good look at his face, “I think we’re late.”

“No, we’re okay, baby. We have until nine, remember?” He looks around and tries to get a feel for where her school might be. He knows that it’s on the north side, a little too far away from his work but not too far from his apartment, if he remembers correctly. “Sweetie, do you remember what street your school is on?”

“Um… A busy one,” Ruby supplies and Harry nods. Should be easy enough to find it, then.

As they walk, Ruby asks him questions about different buildings, what happens inside of them and why they have to be so big. Harry answers as best as he can, trying to keep an eye out for her school. He has a feeling that he’s on the right path but he’s really not sure. Did Daisy mention it to him when she was rattling off all her things that she deemed important? Surely she would have deemed their daughter’s school important.

Across the street, Harry notices a man and a little girl running down the sidewalk, weaving through people as they go. Harry laughs at the sight of them, shaking his head. He’s not sure where they’re going, but he’s grateful that he doesn’t have to run.

The pair stops running, rushing up the stairs of a tan building with bright red doors.

“Ah, found your school,” Harry announces, checking before he rushes out into the street, gripping on Ruby’s legs as he moves quickly to avoid being hit by a cab.

“Baba, what does it say?” Asks the little girl standing at the door. Harry spares her a glance before he steps to the side, looking over her father’s shoulder. “The door is locked.”

“The whole school is out for the day, field trip until three. Sorry we missed you,” Harry mutters, reading the handwritten sign on the door with a sigh. He shakes his head as he lets Ruby off his shoulders, setting her down on the ground.

“What does that mean, Daddy?”

“It means uh oh,” Harry tells her, resting his hand on her head as he pulls her against his side.

The other father sighs, running his fingers through his black hair as he turns to look at Harry when his daughter asks what uh oh means.

“It doesn’t mean anything, babes. We’ll be okay,” the other man assures her, smiling at her briefly.

“I’m Harry.” He smiles at him and hopes that it’ll be enough to make the other man loosen up a little. They’re both late, after all. At least he’s not alone in that. “Harry Styles.”

“Right,” the man mutters. “You’re the ex-husband.”

“Ex-husband?” Harry repeats, confused. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing, it’s just that you’re with Daisy’s daughter,” he explains, shrugging.

“No, you said it was a bad thing. What does that mean?” Harry asks, listening as his daughter says hello to this other guy’s daughter. And he remembers in a flash Daisy mentioning her neighbor Zayn. This must be him. It has to be. There’s distaste to his words that only someone who knows Daisy could have for him.

“It’s nothing,” Zayn sighs, shaking his head. “Sorry, just having a bad morning.” He waves the comment off like it’s nothing and grabs his daughter’s hand. “All right, come on.”

“Baba, what are we doing?” The girl asks and Harry vaguely remembers hearing his daughter say hello Ciara, so that must be her. He’s really not sure.

“We’re hailing a cab,” Zayn says, holding his hand in the air and shouting for one.

“Come on, peanut. We’re gonna have to go if we wanna make it to the boat on the time,” Harry says to Ruby, grabbing her hand and ushering her towards the taxi that’s parked in front of Zayn.

Zayn and Ciara slide in first, followed by Ruby as Harry gets in behind her, squishing her in the middle as Zayn tells the driver that the address of where the boat is supposed to be taking off from this morning.

“Daddy, I don’t wanna sit by her,” Ruby whispers in Harry’s ear. He looks down at the other little girl and sees her glaring, muttering to her own father the same thing.

“All right, you can sit on Daddy’s lap,” Harry says, tugging her over as Zayn pulls Ciara onto the other side of the car, forcing Zayn to press into Harry’s side, which is really just a huge annoyance since the man obviously has some kind of issue with him. It’s not his fault that his marriage didn’t work out. “You ever going to tell me why you made that remark about ex-husbands?”

“No, because it doesn’t matter. And I don’t understand why you’re still crying about it,” Zayn says snottily.

“I’m not crying. I’m asking a question.”

“Sounds about the same right now.”

“I really don’t know where you get off having an attitude.”

“You really do,” Zayn laughs. “And again, I don’t understand why, when it’s your fault that Ciara and I are late in the first place. You do realize that I was banging on your door this morning, right?”

“No, I don’t,” Harry informs him, “because I was taking my daughter to her school. I didn’t need anyone else to do that for me.”

“I believe you were supposed to call me if that happened.”

“Yeah, you were supposed to call,” Ciara says, leaning forward to glare at Harry. He blinks at her, and turns Ruby’s head away from her direction and towards the window because he knows his daughter wants to say something.

“Hush,” Zayn tells Ciara, turning her head away as well.

“I think my attitude might be a direct result of the antagonistic environment that you’ve created towards me inside of this cab.”

“Antagonistic,” Zayn repeats, snorting. “One guess, you’re a writer.”

“See, you said that in the same way that you said ex-husband, all…rude-like. Let me guess, her mother is a writer.”

“I don’t have a mother,” Ciara informs the entire cab, looking at Harry like she’s won this round.

“Her father, then,” Harry corrects, swallowing. He didn’t mean to assume anything, and judging by the look on Ciara’s face, the mother in question isn’t dead, just not there, period.

“Don’t worry about her father.” Zayn grabs a newspaper out of the pocket on the back of the driver’s seat, tossing it at Harry and hitting him in the face. “There, keep yourself occupied,” he says, as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“Fine,” Harry retorts, snapping open the paper and turning his back to Zayn as best that he can in the cramped confines of the cab.

“Daddy, there’s your picture,” Ruby points out, grinning at Harry. He preens at the attention, satisfied to know that at least someone in this cab is happy to be near him and appreciates what he does, even if he won’t let her read a word of it, even if she could read it all.

Zayn snorts as he dials into the phone, pressing it against his ear. Harry does his best to ignore the other man as he talks to someone on the phone, begging them for a favor.

“Yeah, I’m going to be a little late this morning. No. I don’t know. This man has completely ruined Ciara’s day. We’re trying our best now to make it to her field trip but—Yeah, the one on the boat. No, it’s honestly a nightmare. It’s completely this idiot’s, who thinks he’s charming, fault.”

“My baba hates your dad,” Ciara announces, leaning across Zayn to talk to Ruby.

“I don’t care,” Ruby declares, glaring. “My daddy hates your baba.”

Zayn shushes Ciara, pushing her back into the seat as he continues to talk on his phone about Harry and how awful he is.

Fine, Harry thinks, passing the newspaper to Ruby before he pulls out his own phone. He can do that. He can be obnoxious on his cell. It’s not that difficult.

Nick answers on the third ring; sounding exasperated as he issues a greeting.

“What are you wearing?” Harry asks.

Nick snorts on the other end. “What do you want, Styles?”

“Oh, that sounds sexy,” Harry tells him, winking when Zayn turns to glare at him.

“I’m sure it does. You ever going to make it into work?” Nick asks, ignoring him completely, which is for the best, honestly. He’s not even sure what’s going on anymore.

<>

There are three boats docked at the pier when their cab pulls into the lot. Harry pays the driver quickly and pulls Ruby out, helping her fix her kitten shaped backpack before he takes her hand.

“I don’t even know which one it is,” Zayn groans.

“It’s all right, we’ll find it,” Harry assures him, smiling as they all start moving towards the boats.

They don’t have tickets or anything, so Harry hopes that no one tries to stop them and force them to explain that their kids are with the school on one of the vessels.

Zayn keeps the pace brisk as they walk, feet moving quickly, as Harry holds tightly to Ruby’s hand, resisting the urge to flick Zayn on the back of the neck because their kids are having a hard time keeping up with the pace. The urge fades quickly as a boat horn sounds, followed by the sight of one of the boats pulling away.

They’re all running after it, shouting and waving, and Harry is furious. He’s so angry with himself, with Zayn, with the stupid fucking school for not waiting just a half a minute longer so that his daughter can get on the ship.

Harry comes to a stop and sighs, letting go of his daughter’s hand so that he can run his fingers through his hair.

He’s so—god, he’s so angry.

How could he let this happen? How could he not have just called Daisy and asked her what time school starts.

“Ruby, sweetie,” he mutters, dropping down to his knees, ignoring the wet pavement from the night rain that’s going to soak the knees of his black pants so that he talk to his daughter. She’s pouting, bottom lip jutted out sadly. “Daddy is so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I promise that I’ll make this up to you, okay? I promise. I’m so sorry.”

Ruby nods, dropping her head down and staring at the cement. Harry feels his heart break a little as he tugs her forward, pulling her into a hug and petting her hair affectionately.

“It’s okay,” Ciara says, stepping closer to Harry and Ruby, smiling when Ruby lifts her head up. “It’s all wet, anyway. Baba says boats aren’t much fun when it’s raining.”

“Yeah, that’s a good point,” Harry agrees.

“Can we go on a boat another day?” Ruby asks, hopeful.

“Of course we can,” Harry promises, kissing her on the head.

Across from them, Zayn is mumbling to himself. Harry can see that he’s freaking out about this, like he’s ready to fall apart any moment. Harry sighs as he watches him, because this really isn’t something he wants to deal with, but he’s a decent person so he should let the other guy know that it’s not that big of a deal, they can figure something out.

Harry pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Here, play with this,” he says, passing it to Ruby. Something to distract her while he talks to Zayn, talks him out of whatever freak out he’s having with himself. “Hey, everything okay?”

“What? No,” Zayn says, snapping out of it to look at Harry. “I have a huge presentation at work today, as well as a meeting in an hour, and I have no idea how I’m going to do that when I have Ciara now. I can’t think of anyone to watch her, and this is one of the most important days of the year for me. Of my entire career, forget the year.”

“I could watch her,” Harry offers, shrugging. He doesn’t really have much to do this morning, so the least he can do is watch Ciara while Zayn does his presentation and goes to his meeting.

Zayn snorts, shaking his head. “You’re not watching my kid.”

“Baba, give me your phone,” Ciara says, interrupting them as she digs into Zayn’s pockets for the device. “I wanna play games, too.”

“Okay, sweetie,” Zayn says, smiling at her, as he hands the phone over.

Harry waits until she’s out of earshot, sitting on the curb next to Ruby before he speaks again. “I’m not busy this morning, and my boss will understand if I call him to say that I’m going to be late. If anything, they can always come to my work and just hang out there for a while.”

“No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because why?” Harry practically shouts. “You’ve just said yourself that you have no one to watch her and you don’t know what you’re going to do about work. Well, here I am. Offering to watch your child, if you haven’t noticed.”

“I have noticed, and I appreciate the offer, but you’re not watching my daughter.”

“Fine,” Harry snaps, huffing in annoyance as he moves towards the curb. “Figure it out on your own. Ruby, do you want something to eat, love? We’ll go get something to eat.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ruby mutters, so Harry lifts her up, carrying her away from the curb. “No, Daddy. Wait.”

“No, we’ve got to go. Daddy has work and we’re going to get something to eat.”

“But Daddy, I—“

“You want something to eat, right?”

Ruby sighs, nodding. “Yeah. I’m hungry.”

“All right, perfect. Zayn, good luck with your day. Ciara,” Harry says, resisting the urge to say good luck with that man. “We’ll see you around.”

“Bye Ciara,” Ruby shouts, waving over Harry’s shoulder, as he marches her across the pier and towards the street, hoping to catch a cab out of here. A cab to get away from Zayn and the horrible, horrible mood that he’s put him in.

Honestly, Harry can’t remember the last time he’s encountered someone so awful. It is just…amazing how stuck up one person can be. It boggles his mind entirely. The nerve of some people, waking up and deciding to be awful to innocent strangers who try to help them out of the kindness of their hearts.

“Ruby, promise me that you won’t ever turn out like that.”

“Okay, promise, Daddy,” Ruby agrees, smiling despite not knowing what it is Harry is talking about.

<><><>

Everything inside of Zayn is shaking with nerves. He’s out of his mind scared about the meeting that he has in – Zayn glances down at his watch, holy shit he’s so, so late – three minutes. He has no idea what he’s going to do with Ciara, how he can find a place for her, or sneak her into the meeting and stuff her under the boardroom table. He just—

Zayn sighs and rubs his face.

“You okay, Baba?” Ciara asks, looking up at him innocently. He smiles at her and hopes that it’s not a grimace.

“Wonderful, babes. I just-- Baba needs to talk to you for a second.” He kneels down on the floor of the elevator, no longer caring about the state of his work pants. The bottom edges are already coated in that ugly wet dusty look that happens after walking in the dirty city puddles. “It’s really important to Baba that you behave while we’re in Baba’s office, okay? He has something very important that he has to do this morning and it’ll only take ten minutes, okay?”

“Okay,” Ciara mumbles, nodding at him.

“Okay,” Zayn mimics, nodding, as he stands, grabbing hold of Ciara’s hand, as the doors of the elevator open. He steps out slowly, looking around and hoping that something will come to him about what he’s going to do with Ciara. “Right. Baba is going to leave you with his friend, okay? You’re going to stop by and see him while Baba does this work thing just very, very quickly.”

“I have toys in my bag,” Ciara reminds him and Zayn says a silent thank you to whoever managed to make that possible. “I can play while you’re working.”

“That is an excellent idea, babes,” Zayn assures her, smiling as he lifts her up and sets her down in his desk chair.

His cubicle is shared with someone else, one of the only people in the office that Zayn invests any kind of time with, a filing cabinet separating their desks while their backs face each other.

Niall’s always been pretty amazing about most things, and hopefully – if Zayn ignores the look on his face right now – he’ll be okay with babysitting duty.

“What’s going on?” Niall asks, looking confused and ready to protest.

“I need you to watch her so that I can do my presentation for Tomlinson.”

Niall blinks. “Are you being serious?”

“It’ll take fifteen minutes at most,” Zayn tells him, looking around to see Louis Tomlinson, their boss, sitting impatiently in his office. “Please, I really need this. She’s missed her field trip and I have absolutely no other options. Please.”

Niall sighs, waving at Zayn like it’s not a big deal. “Yeah, all right. I’ve got you, man.”

Zayn thinks that he could kiss him right now. He really could. It’s the only thing about this morning that has worked in his favor and he’s so grateful that he can feel some of the knots of stress in his shoulders lessen, ever so slightly. He doesn’t even know what to do with himself, not really anyway, so tells Niall how grateful that he is, promising to repay the favor, before he tells Ciara that he’s going to go now.

“No,” Ciara cries, throwing herself forward and wrapping her arms around Zayn’s neck. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Babes, I need to. Baba has work, remember?” Zayn rubs her back and tries not to sigh. He knows that she can’t help it and that she’s not doing this to get back at him for something. “You’ll be okay. Niall is fun. He’ll let you play on Baba’s computer, if you want. Or you can play on Baba’s phone, if you want,” he offers, taking it out of his pocket and handing it to her.”

“Baba, that’s not—“

“I know. I know this isn’t your idea of fun baby, but once I get this taken care of, we’ll go, okay? I’m going to tell my boss that I need the day off.”

Ciara’s quiet for several seconds before she nods against his shoulder, pulling away to frown at him. He kisses her quickly; promising her once more that he’ll be as quick as he possibly can. She doesn’t protest anymore, sitting back in his chair and watching him as he gathers everything that he’ll need to talk to Louis.

He has design sketches, a little booklet that he made that goes over materials and costs, as well as the benefits of using the materials (something he should have read last night, if he’s being honest), his blueprints, and the model that he built to help Tomlinson better see his vision for the apartment complexes.

Zayn nearly drops his papers on the ground when he hears his boss shout out for him.

“Um, yeah. One second, sorry,” Zayn winces, setting his things down and rushing over to where Louis is standing outside of his office, wearing his suit without the jacket and looking just the slightest bit annoyed that he’s being forced to wait.

“Are you ready to do this, Zayn?” Louis asks, leaning against his door and studying Zayn carefully, sizing him up.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was running late this morning, but uh. Just give me a minute. I need to get my stuff together and then I’ll meet you in the boardroom?”

“Let’s do this in my office instead,” Louis tells him, pointing at his watch as if to say ‘time is ticking, get a move on it.’ Zayn nods in thanks and turns, ready to rush back to his desk before he knocks into Ciara, his eyes going wide at the fact that she followed him over here. “Whose kid is that?”

“Uh…” Zayn blinks and stares down at his daughter. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do. All he knows is that his daughter is staring up at him while his boss looks less than thrilled at him. “Um. That’s someone’s kid… I’m gonna go, um, try and figure that out.”

Louis looks at him for a moment before he shrugs, wandering back into his office. He leaves the door open for Zayn.

Zayn waits only a beat before he picks his daughter up; ready to ask her why she left his desk and where Niall is, when his phone rings in her hands. He groans and grabs it from her, answering it quickly.

“Where are you?” The person on the end shouts at him, causing him to pull the phone away from his ear. “If you’re late, you’re going to be fired. Do you understand me? We’ve got a big—“

“You’ve got the wrong number,” Zayn tells him, cutting him off.

“Bullshit Harry, get your ass in here!”

Zayn looks at his daughter as he hangs up on the man, waving the phone gently for a second. “This isn’t my phone, is it?” He asks, watching as his daughter shakes her head. And just… Just fucking great.

The most frustrating morning of his life - an exaggeration, of course - and he has Harry’s phone, which only means that he’s going to be forced to see the other man again, which is the very last thing on planet Earth that he wants.

“Why do I have Harry’s phone?”

“I tried to tell you,” Ciara says. “I tried to tell you a lot.”

Zayn sighs, moving slowly back towards his desk.

Now that he thinks about it, she had been trying to tell him something several times, and he’d been too rushed to listen to her.

“Yeah. Sorry for not listening to you.”

“It’s okay,” she assures him, smiling at him.

Zayn nearly drops Ciara when he gets to his office. His model is still sitting on his desk, still pristine aside from… Well, aside from the fact that the actual building is broken in half, bits of it on the floor, some of it taped together in an amateur attempt to repair it. And it’s just—

It’s broken. Zayn’s hard work is broken.

He sets Ciara down carefully, moving wordlessly towards his model as he tries to see the damage. And, oh god.

What is he going to do? How is he going to fix this is in—Yesterday. This needs to be fixed as of yesterday and he’s royally fucked.

This was his chance. This was his big chance at the promotion. The promotion that could have gotten him the salary needed to move him and Ciara into a nicer apartment in a better neighborhood, with money to spare so he wouldn’t have to rely on the checks from his ex that came when he felt like sending them.

He needed this and it’s slipping away from him because his model is broken.

Upon closer inspection, he can see that it’s not just the main building being broken completely. There are details missing, tiny little things that no one might notice except for him.

“I wanted to tell you, Baba,” Ciara mutters, voice small. “It was an accident.”

“What happened?” Zayn asks, mostly to himself more than anything. He turns to look at Ciara, before staring at Niall, the back of his head facing them until he hears Zayn speak.

“Oh shit,” Niall says, staring wide eyed at the mess of the model on the floor.

“You were supposed to be watching her.”

“I’m sorry, Baba. I was playing with my dolls and I—I broke it. I didn’t mean to,” Ciara tells him, holding onto his pant leg. “I tried to fix it, Baba. I didn’t mean to.”

“No. No, no. It’s not your fault,” Zayn assures her, kneeling down and pulling her into a hug, rubbing her back. “It’s okay. Accidents happen, don’t worry. Baba’s not mad at you. I don’t blame you. I blame Ruby’s daddy. He’s ruining everyone’s day today, isn’t he?”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry. You’re okay, pumpkin. We’ll figure something out,” he promises, sighing, as he hopes that he can come up with something in the next fifteen seconds.

<>

Zayn takes a deep breath before he walks into Louis’ office, knocking on the door to announce his presence.

“Zayn?” Louis asks, frowning in confusion when he notices that Zayn has absolutely nothing in his hands like he should.

“I’m so sorry, but Niall was supposed to grab my model for me, but he said that it wasn’t finished when he went to the place this morning. They said they just needed a couple hours to finish it. But we can do it without that. I’ve got some sketches and blueprints to show you, if you’d like to work with that instead,” Zayn explains, trying to keep his voice from wavering. If he sounds confident in this lie, then Louis won’t chew his head off and throw it at him.

Louis sighs at him, shaking his head. “Zayn, we need that model.”

“No, I know. And I’m sorry. I realize how terribly inconvenient this all is, and I promise that this will not happen again, even if I have to find another place to work with on my models.” A lie, he loves the place that he goes to. “But the model is amazing. It’s going to be perfect.”

Louis looks at him, studying Zayn carefully before he nods. “You’re one of my best employees Zayn, and I trust you.”

“Thank you so much.”

“I’m meeting with the clients at two this afternoon. Make sure that model is done before then,” Louis tells him firmly, looking at him with his brow raised to let Zayn know that he’s not kidding and this isn’t the time to fuck with him. At least not anymore.

“Oh, god, thank you,” Zayn gushes, before he rushes out of Louis’ office, feet moving quickly. He needs to get the ball rolling on the repair.

Ciara is sitting with Niall, looking at him skeptically as he tries to tell her how to play a game that he’s downloaded on Zayn’s—no, Harry’s phone. She looks less than impressed with it, lips pulled back in a way that lets Zayn know she’s ready to go.

“Babes, come on. We’re going to go get my model fixed, okay, so get your bag,” Zayn instructs, watching as Ciara slides out of the chair eagerly, shoving her dolls into her bag and snatching the phone out of Niall’s hand. “Louis is giving me until two to fix this,” Zayn adds, directing this part to Niall, who breathes out in relief.

“Good luck,” Niall tells him. “And I’ll see you soon, Ciara.”

“Bye Niall,” says Ciara, waving as she skips ahead of Zayn, leaving him to grab his model before he can follow her to the elevator.

They’re not going far, just a few blocks over to a shop that specializes in this. Zayn’s seen the studio there used for all kinds of things, art students using the 3-D printer for whatever it is art students do, other people coming in to design different objects, along with fellow architects wanting to get models that actually look professional and decent with materials they don’t offer at his firm.

With his hands full, Ciara has to hold onto the sleeve of his black shirt, as he guides her to the shop.

“How much longer, Baba?”

“Not far, we just have to cross the street here and walk a little bit more. Make sure you’re holding onto to Baba tightly.”

“I am,” Ciara cries, shaking her head. “And Baba, you know what? If I was on my field trip, I wouldn’t have messed up your thing.”

“I know, babes. Trust me, I know.”

Ciara sighs. “I’m kind of sad that I didn’t get to go on it. But now I don’t have to listen to Ms. Nicole. She loves to yell,” Ciara tells him, rattling on as he guides her gently through the street, making sure to not let anyone bump into his model to mess it up more.

Ciara continues to talk about her class, about her school, telling Zayn everything that she hates and loves about it. He’s heard about this Ms. Nicole before, some college student getting hours in his daughters class, and he’s been meaning to call in about it.

But…he can’t do anything about it today, so instead he listens, ushering his daughter into the revolving doors.

“What happened?” Zayn glances up to see Caroline standing there, mouth hung open as she stares at the model in his hands. He sighs and spares a quick glance down to Ciara. “I see,” she mumbles, motioning him towards an empty table towards the back. “Well, as bad as it looks, I think we can easily fix this. I still have the prototypes somewhere; we can just squeeze them in, secure them, and hope that they’ll have enough time to securely adhere themselves. When do you need this done by?”

“Before two, if you can.” Caroline raises an eyebrow and he tries not to wince. “I wouldn’t have brought it here if I didn’t think you could do it. You’re the best, Caroline, you know that.”

She sighs but she’s smiling, patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll get you taken care of. In the mean time, who is this pretty girl?”

<><><>

“Mommy wouldn’t ever let me have a milkshake for breakfast.”

“It’s not breakfast, love, it’s brunch,” Harry corrects, winking. “And besides, Daddy thought that it sounded good. And I’ve ruined your day, so you’re getting a milkshake.”

“My day isn’t ruined,” Ruby tells him. She sounds so sincere that Harry feels bad. She’s not afraid to be angry with him, of course, but he feels bad that she’s not. “Why would it be ruined?”

“Well, you missed your field trip, for one thing.”

“That’s okay.” Ruby shrugs like she hadn’t been ready to cry as she watched the boat pull out.

“You’re too nice,” Harry mumbles, kissing the top of her head. “I love you, you know.”

“I love you, too.”

“Good, I’m glad we’ve settled that.”

Ruby nods and pokes her straw into her strawberry milkshake, frowning for a second, as she thinks. “Daddy, you know that these are really bad for you? Mommy says they have a lot of sugar.”

Harry laughs, pulling her in and kissing the top of her head once more. “You’re funny, love. And you know what? It’s okay to have things that are bad for you sometimes, especially when you’re not feeling your best. Sometimes junk is just what you need, so enjoy your shake, okay?”

Ruby nods, grinning as she puts the straw in her mouth, finally enjoying her shake in the way that Harry has been wanting her too, in the way that she deserves to enjoy it. Harry’s going to talk to her mother about filling Ruby’s head with what’s good for her and what’s not, especially when it comes to food, and even more especially, when she’s so young.

Ruby is smart and Harry knows that she’ll eat anything they give her, within reason; so a little indulgence is fine. Ruby shouldn’t worry about something like that. He’s going to make sure that he gives her plenty of treats this week.

In his pocket, Harry’s phone begins to ring. “It’s probably my boss,” Harry mutters, shaking his head as he pulls it out of his pocket.

“Probably not,” Ruby says.

“This will only take a minute,” he promises, hitting the button. “Hello?”

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Um, this is Harry. Who is this?”

“Harry what?” the voice says, sounding confused, which she shouldn’t be, since she called his phone.

“Harry Styles. Whom may I ask is calling?”

“Trisha Malik, where is my son at?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who—“ Harry blinks. Malik. He remembers that. It’s familiar. Why is it— Harry looks down at Ruby, who grins at him, prettily. “I’m sorry. I must have grabbed his phone by accident this morning.”

“This morning?” Zayn’s mother repeats, mumbling something quietly to someone in the background that Harry can’t hear. “And did you say Harry Styles? You’re that columnist in the paper, aren’t you?”

“I am, actually. Yeah.” Harry can’t help but grin at the fact that someone recognized him. It’s even better to know that it’s Zayn’s own mother.

“Oh that’s wonderful,” she says and Harry can hear her smiling. “Are you single?”

“Um, yes. I am.”

“Okay, interesting,” she mutters. “Well, if you see Zayn again, tell him to call me, okay? We apparently have a lot to talk about.”

“Will do,” Harry promises before he hands up, setting the phone down on the counter of the diner that they’re sitting in, right between his and Ruby’s milkshakes. “Do you want to explain how I got Ciara’s dad’s phone?”

Ruby laughs. “We tried to tell you. Neither of you listened to us.”

“Right, okay.” Harry takes a big gulp of his shake, eyeing the phone before he makes a decision. He picks it up quickly, dialing his own number as Ruby laughs at him. “I’m going to call Ciara’s dad, do you have anything you need me to say?”

“No,” she giggles, lips still wrapped around the straw.

The phone rings for several long seconds and Harry worries that Zayn might not answer, worried that he might have shut it off for the work day, which would be an actual nightmare if Harry were to miss any of the calls he might get today.

Finally, on what has to be the final ring before the voicemail, Zayn answers.

“Hello?”

“It seems that we have the wrong phones,” Harry says, fiddling with his straw as he listens to Zayn sigh.

“It would appear that way,” Zayn agrees. “Your boss called. He wants you to get into work.”

“Well, your mom called and she wants us to get married.”

Zayn snorts. “Shut up.” But Harry can hear him laughing, and yeah, that’s right. He made Zayn laugh. “What are going to do about these phones?”

“We can switch them at our wedding,” Harry suggests.

“We’ll switch them in the morning when we drop the girls off at school,” Zayn decides. “In the meantime, we’ll just relay messages back to each other.”

“My idea sounds much better,” Harry muses.

Harry hears Zayn snort before he hangs up on him. Laughing, Harry shoves the phone in his pocket, winking at Ruby, as she studies him.

“Do you like him?” She asks, head tilted to the side in curiosity.

“No,” Harry protests, trying to look at her as skeptically as she’s looking at him. “Finish your shake. We need to go to my work.”

<>

When the elevators ding open on Harry’s floor, he sees that it’s just as busy as it always is, people running around and talking on their phones, trying to get to the bottom of a story before another news outlet can. Well, before another paper news outlet can. There’s not much they can do to compete with TV reporters besides making sure that their stories are accurate.

Several people turn to look at Harry as he enters, Ruby on his hip.

“Hi, Harry,” Samantha mutters, smiling at him as he walks past her desk. He waves, but decides against starting a conversation.

A few others offer him greetings as he passes, all of them smiling, batting their eyes, and asking about Ruby, who thoroughly ignores all of them as she grips Harry’s shirt.

“Harry, is that your daughter?” Liam asks, stepping in front of him.

Harry sighs, because why. Why on all of the days of the week does Liam Payne need to be in the office? “Yes, this is Ruby.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” Liam says, smiling at Ruby. Ruby furrows her brow at Liam, studying him and ignoring the fact that he even spoke to her. “You never told me that you had a daughter.”

There’s a lot that Harry avoids telling Liam. “It never came up,” he lies, shrugging.

“She looks just like you.”

Ruby wrinkles her nose and Harry laughs. Her soft blonde hair is almost brown now, wavy and messy. But she does have his eyes and his ears, but her smile is her mother’s. Which is good, Harry thinks. Daisy has a lovely smile.

“Hopefully that doesn’t last forever,” Harry mutters, as he steps around him.

Harry doesn’t have time for Liam right now. If Nick has called Zayn already, then he knows that he’s dead when he walks in his office. Luckily, he has Ruby with him, to keep the death quick and painless, or non-existent, whichever Harry can negotiate.

“Daddy, why are all these people talking to you like that?” Ruby asks as another person greets him.

“What do you mean, babe?”

“Like this,” Ruby says, pitching her voice high and batting her eyelashes at Harry. “Oh hi, Harry.”

“Don’t call me Harry,” he laughs, tickling her sides. “And hey, look at that?”

Ruby turns her head, following Harry’s pointed finger and gasps, slapping him on the chest. “It’s a cat.”

“Yeah. We’re not sure why, but Nick likes to keep an office cat.”

“It’s because it stops you from killing each other,” a voice says from behind him, startling Harry. “And what is that?” Nick points down to Ruby, raising his eyebrow at Harry. “Or who is that, I should ask.”

“You wouldn’t believe the morning that I’ve had,” Harry sighs, rolling his eyes. He follows Nick into his office, motioning for Ruby to follow, her arms already full of the fluffy black feline that stalks the office. “My ex stopped by, confirmed that she thinks I’m a terrible father. Again.”

“Sounds routine,” Nick mumbles, plopping in his chair, putting his feet on his desk and looking up at Harry.

“Yeah, well. Then I met one of her friend’s fathers. Probably the most attractive person that you could want to meet, and he’s gay, by the way, or so I’m assuming since he has a daughter with another man,” Harry tells Nick, not even caring that Nick really doesn’t give a shit. “But… Well, he’s a snob. He’s uptight, and loves to argue.”

“In general or with you?”

“Probably both, I’d assume.”

Nick nods. “You know that you’re late, right?” Harry points to Ruby. “All right, forget about that. We’re writing a retraction on one of your pieces.”

“Wait. What? What piece?”

“The one about the mayor. Your source came forward and admitted to lying to you.”

“That’s not possible. He went on record. He—he told me everything. We have proof that he’s telling the truth,” Harry spits out, biting on his lip so he doesn’t shout the words.

“Okay. Well, you’re going to need more sources then, because the one you have doesn’t want to talk anymore.”

“What the fu—“ Harry stops himself, running his fingers through his hair angrily as he paces Nick’s office. “That story was fact. Why the fu—Oh my god.” He closes his eyes and breathes out, because his daughter is right there, sitting in the chair opposite Nick with the stupid office cat in her lap. “I’m going to have to talk to him.”

“Harry, you can’t go after the mayor and the _governor_ , and not expect someone to be afraid about what could happen.”

“Okay, but I’m still going to talk to him. Just—I’ll talk to him.”

“Harry, if we print a retraction, then you know that the uppers are going to want to fire you, right?”

“You can’t fire me.”

“His face is in the paper,” Ruby tosses out, smiling when Nick looks at her.

“Yeah, that’s—what she said,” Harry huffs out, dropping in the chair next to his daughter.

“Then don’t make us print a retraction.”

Harry groans, dropping his head in his hands and trying to think of what he’s going to do. If this source falls through, then he just. God, this was his shot. He needs this. He needs this job. He loves this job, actually.

“I’ll figure it out,” Harry decides, nodding to Nick before he jumps out of his seat and rushes towards the elevator. He has to figure this out. There’s no way that he can’t.

Liam follows behind him. “Harry, I heard about what happened to your story. I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“Figuring it out, Liam,” Harry grits out, jamming the elevator button once more before it opens up for him. He steps in, avoiding eye contact as he presses the close door button repeatedly, saying a thank you to the gods that Liam didn't get on with him.

On with him…

Fuck.

Harry hits the button for the eight floor, the one below his own and rushes off when the doors open, barely giving them time to fully open. He shoves open the stairwell door, taking the stairs two at a time before he’s running onto his floor, moving quickly to Nick’s office where Ruby sits with the cat still, not worried about the fact that Harry almost forgot her.

“Oh my god,” he breathes out, kissing her quickly as he scoops her up.

“Daddy, the cat—“

“I know, baby, but we have to go save Daddy’s job, okay? I’m gonna take you some place.”

<><><>

Zayn steps into the bathroom satisfied that Ciara is preoccupied and won’t come looking for him, and pulls his phone out of his pocket. Harry’s phone. He needs to find someone that can take care of Ciara until after his presentation this afternoon. He’s already tried one of his sisters, one of his neighbors, and every other person that he can think of whose number that he has memorized and lives close by. And it really only leaves one person, the one person who should be willing to help Zayn out with _their_ daughter.

Derek answers on the third ring, voice gravelly from sleep.

“Hey, um. It’s me.”

“Zayn?”

“Yeah. Have you made it back home?”

“Yeah, just got back last night. Why?”

Zayn sighs. This is the last person that he wants to ask for help, but it’s, realistically, the only person that he should have to ask. “I need you to watch Ciara for me, just for a couple hours.”

“Why isn’t she in school, Zayn?” Derek asks, avoiding Zayn’s question. Nice.

“It’s a long story, Derek. Can you watch her or not?”

“I can’t. I just got home last night. I’ve got shit that I need to do today.”

Zayn breathes out slowly. “Can you call your mom and ask her?”

“What? Zayn, no. She’s at work. Why can’t you watch her?”

“Because I have a job, Derek. A real job that I need to be at in order to pay for everything that she needs. A job that I can’t just walk out of because my daughter isn’t at school, so can you please help me out? It’s a couple hours.”

“Zayn, I—“

“She’s your daughter, Derek. Please.”

Derek sighs. “Zayn, I’d help if I could, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Whatever, Zayn thinks, shaking his head as he leans back against the bathroom wall; he’s not even annoyed by Derek’s answer. He knew that he’d say no. It’s what he does, flake out and not be there when he’s supposed to be. Which leads Zayn to ask, “Are you coming to her soccer game tonight? It’s at six.”

“I’m gonna try.”

“Try,” Zayn repeats, snorting. “Right. Well, thanks. I guess. I’ve gotta go figure out what I’m going to do with _my_ daughter since _her_ father won’t watch her.”

Derek laughs and Zayn wants to crush Harry’s phone in his hand, or throw it across the room, send it flying just to watch it shatter.

“You could take her to the 9th Street Drop-In. She’s been there before,” Derek supplies and Zayn blinks. He hadn’t thought of that. Well, why would he? He doesn’t usually drop his daughter off at places to watch her instead of him doing it. Which is an argument that he and Derek are going to have, just not today.

<>

“No,” Ciara cries, clutching Zayn’s legs when she sees the Drop-In center. He sighs, bending down to pick her up. “I don’t want to go there, Baba.”

“Hey, look at me,” Zayn says, brushing his daughter’s hair behind her ears. “You’re going to have fun, okay? And it’s only for a little while, I promise. Baba needs to do his presentation and as soon as that is over, the minute it’s finished, I’m rushing back here to get you. Okay?”

“Those kids are mean, Baba.”

“You don’t even know those kids, baby. You’re going to have so much fun. And it’s just for a couple hours, just so Baba can do his work,” Zayn promises, carrying his daughter into the building.

They step into one of the front rooms, a large room filled with toys and tables designed for children. It’s spacious, and Zayn guides Ciara towards a little cubby before he hesitates, unsure if he really wants to put her bag of things there, before he sighs, setting her down on the ground to help her get her bag off.

“Do you remember how to read a clock?” Zayn asks, watching as Ciara shrugs. He kneels down and points towards a clock on the wall. “Do you see the little hand, the shorter one?” Ciara nods. “When it is pointing at the three, then you’ll know that Baba will be there any second, okay?”

Ciara sighs and Zayn smiles at her. He’s grateful that the kids are all outside right now, giving them time to talk to each other in private, aside from another little kid sitting at one of the far tables with her father.

It’s quiet in here, which means that Ciara won’t be tense, won’t worry about the other kids and he can leave her when she finally feels comfortable.

“What if it touches the four?” Ciara asks quietly.

“Then Baba is going to have to buy you a toy, anything you want. Within reason,” Zayn says. They’ve already talked about why they can’t have a puppy in their apartment. “How does that sound?”

“It sounds like I’m going to be here a long time.”

“It’ll go by so quickly that you’ll be surprised when I come back.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Ciara mumbles. “Can I go sit by Ruby now?”

“Ruby?” Zayn repeats frowning.

“Over there.”

Zayn sighs when he realizes just who the father and daughter on the other side of the room are. It’s funny how life keeps throwing lemons at Zayn, trying to force him to make lemonade out of all these unfortunate situations that are happening today.

Ciara leads the way, holding onto Zayn’s hand until Ruby spots her, smiling softly. Ciara stands next to her, smiling when Harry greets her.

“Fancy seeing you both here,” Harry says, his gaze flicking towards Zayn for the briefest second. “And see Rubes, you’ve already got a friend here.”

Ciara sighs. “I don’t want to be here.”

“Neither do I,” Ruby says, glaring at Harry.

“I won’t be gone long, love. And I gave you my watch, so you’ll be able to track the time better. Don’t sell it for candy,” Harry tells her, brows furrowing mock sternly as Ruby laughs.

“And you know Baba’s number, right?” Zayn asks, pulling Harry’s phone out of his pocket and passing it over. Harry takes it, handing Zayn’s over silently. “You can call me if anything happens. If it’s an emergency and I don’t answer then you call—“

“The cops,” Ciara says.

“No. Well, maybe not the cops, babes.”

“Call the fireman, since they carry axes,” Ruby chimes in, nodding, making Harry laugh and Ciara smile.

“I don’t think you’ll need an axe,” Zayn says. “I was going to say you can call Harry.”

“What if one of the kids are mean to us?” Ciara asks.

“Is that an emergency?” Ruby adds, looking between Zayn and Harry.

“If it’s a little boy, kick him in the legs,” Harry supplies. “Don’t let boys be mean to you.”

Ruby nods. “Got it.”

Zayn breathes out, leaning down to pull Ciara into a hug. “Please don’t listen to him,” he says, feeling Ciara nod against his shoulder. “I’ll be back as soon as I can, babes. I promise.”

“Okay,” Ciara tells him, smiling when he pulls away, kissing her forehead.

Ciara waits until Harry is finished hugging Ruby before she grabs her hand, walking out towards the back where the teacher is standing at the door, smiling at them and waving them off.

Zayn waits until he can’t see Ciara anymore, her curly-haired head disappearing, before he leaves. She’s not alone, he reminds himself. She has Ruby, and for some reason, that makes him feel better about leaving her here. At least she knows someone. At least she’ll have a friend; even if she claims Ruby isn’t one of her friends.

Harry follows behind him, of course he does, because he’s Harry and he’s the biggest lemon that Zayn’s had tossed at him today.

“They’re going to have a great time together,” Harry says, rushing forward so that he’s walking next to Zayn. “Ruby was a little scared, but I’m glad they have each other now. Ruby really likes Ciara, you know that?”

“Ciara likes her as well.” At least Zayn thinks she does, anyway, despite what she’s claimed. “And, well. It’s hard enough being a kid, especially when your parent drops you off some place you don’t want to be.”

“Hmm, I think it would be all right. A little fun, I’d bet.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you would,” Zayn mutters, rolling his eyes.

“What’s your problem?”

“You are, obviously,” Zayn tells him, stopping at the corner and waiting for the walk signal.

“And what exactly have I done now?”

“Everything. You’ve done everything, Harry.”

Harry scoffs, shaking his head and folding his arms over his head. “So what are you angry about now? Hmm? Go on, let’s hear it.”

“I’m not angry about anything, Harry. I just don’t want to do this right now. Today was already going to be impossibly long and stressful, but now it’s even more so, because of everything that’s happened, so excuse me if I don’t have time for small talk. I’m sorry.”

“I really think you need to lighten up, love.”

“You—you’re annoying,” Zayn tells him decidedly, nodding as he folds his arms over his chest. “You’re obnoxious. And I don’t have time for people who blame all their problems on everyone else.”

Zayn blaming his awful day on Harry is different, obviously, because Harry actually did ruin his day by not calling him this morning to let him know he didn’t need to get Ruby, which started the domino effect of everything else falling to complete shit.

“What problems?” Harry asks, grabbing Zayn’s arm and pulling him closer to the building so they’re away from the crowd that are trying to go about their day. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you well enough to know that you’re a child.”

“I’m a child?”

“Yes, you’re an irresponsible child, who blames his Peter Pan complex on his ex-wife, along with everyone else that you meet.”

Harry snorts, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know what Peter Pan complex that you’re talking about, but okay.”

“I’m sure you don't,” Zayn mumbles back angrily.

“Do you have any friends, Zayn?” Harry asks, startling Zayn with the question. “Don’t look so surprised. Do you?”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a simple question, Zayn. Yes or no. Do you have any friends?”

“I don’t have time for friends,” Zayn says. “I have full custody of my daughter, meaning that I have to take her to all of her activities as well as to school every morning.”

“We see how that works out,” Harry mutters.

Zayn ignores that. “And I have a career. I’m busy, okay?”

“Yeah, well, it’s probably your Captain Hook complex that stops you from making any friends, _not_ your _busy_ life.”

“What? There’s no such thing as a Captain Hook complex.”

“Oh yes there is,” Harry decides, nodding. “And you have it. It’s probably why you’re so bitter and angry at everything.”

Zayn laughs because _this,_ this is what he’s talking about. “It’s not real, Harry, but nice try, I guess.”

“Oh it’s real, and you clearly have it.”

Zayn glares at Harry, breathing out harshly. “You know what? Whatever, Harry.” Zayn turns on his heel and walks off. He doesn’t have time for this. He doesn’t have time for Harry or petty arguments outside of the building that he just had to drop his daughter off at because some people don’t know how to be responsible and considerate of others.

Harry can go fuck himself, for all Zayn cares.

<><><>

Harry pounds on the door in front of him, fist banging loudly in the silence of the hall. He knows that his source is home, he could hear Ed watching television before he started knocking. And he’s not going to be fooled by him turning off the television. He’s not going home until he finds out why Ed backed out.

“I know you’re in there Ed,” Harry shouts over his knocking. “If you don’t open the door, I’ll call the press and tell them where to find you.”

The door swings open almost instantly, revealing an unimpressed red head. “Get in here, you annoying ass,” Ed sighs, grabbing Harry by his shirtsleeve and tugging him inside. “You’re gonna piss off my neighbors.”

“I don’t really care about your neighbors,” Harry tells him. “I care about why you’re lying. My boss tells me that you’ve recanted your statement that you gave me.”

“I did, yes.” Ed folds his arms over his chest defensively, looking at the floor instead of at Harry.

“Why would you do that? You know how important this is. You were the one that came to me. You came to me, you told me that you knew—you _knew_ what was going on, you _knew_ something wasn’t right with the governor and the mayor, and everyone else involved this little scheme,” Harry shouts. “I waited until you were absolutely sure before I had that story printed.”

“Harry, we’re trying to take down the governor! We’re trying to take down the mayor, half of the shitty fucking politicians in this town, we can’t—This is crazy, Harry!”

“It’s not crazy if it’s true,” Harry says. “It’s true. You know it, I know it, and anyone with a conscious mind would know that we’re telling the truth.”

“I’m not sure we’re telling the truth.”

“We’re are, and you know that! And you know what lying means.” Ed looks at him, the briefest hint of shame washing over his features. “My job is on the line.”

“My life is on the line,” Ed mumbles quietly. “Do you know how many threats I’ve gotten since I lied for you, Harry?”

“No, I don’t know, but you knew that was going to happen. We talked about it. We talked about that every step of the way. I made sure—I made sure that you knew what the outcome might be,” Harry reminds him. He never wanted Ed to be threatened, but Ed was determined to get this story out. There are people out there who can’t afford to eat, who can’t afford housing, because the mayor is stealing tax money that should be going to help the city, by paying off the governor to keep quiet about it. “You knew that. I told you when you first called me to discuss this, do you remember that?”

“Yeah, I do, but I’m taking it back. It’s not worth it to me,” Ed admits. “One day, people will know that the mayor is stealing all the money from the city, but they’re not going to find it out from me.”

“They already know. We just need you to admit it. We need you to not go back on your word.”

Ed shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders, his body sagging at the action. He looks defeated, and Harry knows what he’s going to say before he says it. “I’m sorry, Harry. I just can’t.”

<>

“Ed won’t go back on his word. His second word, he doesn’t really give a damn about the first.”

“Did he at least give you someone that might be willing to talk?” Nick asks and Harry shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “A list of names would be even better, but I fear I shouldn’t reach for the stars with this one.”

“I wouldn’t even bother reaching for anything, because he didn’t give me shit,” Harry sighs, leaning his head back against the seat of the cab. “The only thing I got was that he’s being threatened.”

“Which he knew would happen.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“Well,” Nick starts, pausing to sigh like he doesn’t want to go on. Harry closes his eyes in anticipation, rubbing his temple with the hand not holding his phone. “They’ve scheduled the press conference for five. So, you know, you’ve got until then to figure this out.”

“I will, okay. I will.” Harry doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince, his boss or himself, and at this point, he’s not even sure that it matters just as long as someone thinks that he can. “Don’t worry about it,” Harry says. “I don’t know who I’m going to call, but. But I’ll figure it out.”

Nick hums. “Well, I think it might interest you to know that I’ve heard a lovely bit of information about our dear governor this afternoon.”

“Yeah? What was that?”

“Well, it seems Mr. Governor has taken a very lavish vacation.” Harry can hear the shift in Nick’s voice as he continues; he can almost hear the grin spreading across his face. “A lavish vacation to a remote island with his girlfriend,” Nick finishes, putting emphasis on the girlfriend part.

And Harry’s not sure why this is news that Nick feels like sharing, especially not when the governor is—“That dick. Does his wife know?” Harry asks, trying to keep from jumping up and down in excitement. Not at someone else’s martial problems, of course, but because this is huge for him. This is just what he needs. “Please tell me she knows.”

“She does know, and she’s in the city as we speak.”

Harry throws a fist in the air, breathing out harshly. “Nick, I was there, I’d kiss you. I really would.”

Nick snorts. “Well, thank goodness you’re not here, then.” Harry laughs. “I’ll get someone to figure out where exactly she’s at and then I’ll let you know as soon as I know.”

“Thanks Nick, honestly. I don’t know—just. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Nick says before he hands up.

Harry sighs, running his fingers through his hair once more because finally he can see the silver lining.

If the governor’s wife is angry with him, then maybe Harry can convince her to talk to him, to help him try to put a stop to everything that’s happening. Maybe she can help him keep his job, since Ed sure as hell won’t be doing that today.

Harry just hopes that Nick can pull through with figuring out her location. He’s sure that he can, almost positive of it, but he needs it to happen before any kind of retraction can make it to print. He needs to keep his job, not just for himself, but also for a certain little blonde that’s also affected by that.

Harry’s phone rings in his hand and he answers it quickly, ushering out a greeting and hoping that Nick has done his magic this quickly.

“Harry?”

“Um, yeah? Wait. Zayn?”

Zayn breathes into the phone, a sigh of relief. “Yeah, it’s me. Listen, you have to go and get the girls. They just called me. Please.”

Harry stands a little straighter. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

“No. They’re scared. They hate it there,” Zayn says somewhat sadly. “I don’t even know why we left them there. I can’t believe we did that. You have to go and get them, they’re miserable, Harry.”

“Zayn, I don’t—“

“Harry, I could hear someone shouting at them in the background. I’d go and get them myself but I can’t. I’ll lose my job. Please, Harry.”

Harry sighs, resisting the urge to run his fingers through his hair or rub at his temples again. He really needs to invest in travel-sized medications for headaches because his skull is starting to pound in his head. “Zayn, so will I. Is there really no one else that you can call?”

Zayn laughs, humorless. “Harry, if there was someone else, anyone else, do you really think I’d be calling you? Begging you, almost?”

And yeah, fair point on that one, Harry reasons. “So, you’re saying you want my help?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“No, I wanna hear you say it. I wanna hear you say that you need my help.”

Zayn sighs, and when he speaks, it sounds like the words pain him. “Harry, I need your help.”

“Now, call me your knight in shining armor,” Harry teases, grinning when he hears Zayn snort.

“I have a meeting at two, so I was thinking that we could meet up at, like, two-thirty. Is that okay? I’ll text you where.”

“Yeah, that’ll work. It would work so much better if you called me your knight in shining armor, though.”

“I’m never going to call you that.”

“You will, I just have to butter you up first.”

“Yeah, well. You can worry about buttering something else. In the meantime, can you please be careful with my daughter? Please. She’s sensitive and hates big groups. She also doesn’t really like when things get too noisy. You’ll know when that is; she’ll cover her ears,” Zayn informs him, sighing like he’s about to unleash a bunch more information onto Harry. “She’s not allergic to anything, but I would really prefer if you didn’t load her up with junk. And make sure that she drinks water. Drinks anything, actually. She forgets, but she’s got a couple juices in her bag. Make her drink them.”

“Is that all?” Harry asks.

“No,” Zayn mutters and then, almost quietly, “Yeah. That’s all. Just—don’t forget.”

“I won’t, I wrote it all down,” Harry lies, listening to Zayn laugh. “Don’t worry, Zayn.”

“Yeah,” Zayn sighs. “Okay. I’ll see you at two-thirty.”

<><><>

Zayn hangs up the phone and sighs once more, leaning back against the seat of the cab. With Ciara taken care of, Zayn feels like he can relax. A little bit. There are still loads of other things that he has to take care, but he knows that’s one thing off his list, thanks to Harry.

Harry.

Zayn can’t help but smile at the thought of him, as infuriating as he is. And really, Harry’s not all that awful, at least not all the time, anyway.

Really, he’s rather charming. In the most wonderful way, unfortunately for Zayn, because he can’t help but feel some kind of pull towards Harry, no matter how much he pushes him away. And he has been, god has he been.

Normally, if it were any other day, Zayn might feel a little guilty for the way he’s been behaving. But…well.

Zayn’s not looking for anyone. He’s not. Derek has—He was a lot. He took up a lot of Zayn’s time, his energy, and his…well, Zayn’s everything, really. It was a draining relationship and Zayn is hesitant to try anything after that. Not like Harry is offering himself up for Zayn.

But.

Well, it’s just a thought, is all Harry is. Harry. As wonderful or terrible as that may be, Zayn’s not sure, not yet. But dropping everything to get Ciara for him, despite the important day they’re both having, that’s something.

It’s something that settles warm and pleasant in his stomach. It’s nice, whatever it is.

In his hand, Zayn’s phone chirps to life. He sees that it’s Niall.

“Your model is finished. Caroline just called up here. And Louis, among other things, is impatient. You need to get your ass here and fast,” Niall advises.

Zayn groans, rubbing tiredly at his face. “I figured he would be. God. Okay. Um, I’ll be there soon. I’m pulling up now. I’ll rush in, grab my model, and then I’ll be there.”

“Yeah, well. I think that would have been nice as of an hour ago.”

“It’s not even two, what the hell does he want me to do,” Zayn cries, handing the driver his money and thanking him as he steps out of the car. “You know what, whatever. It’ll be fine. I’ll be there soon.”

Caroline is waiting for him inside, grinning at him as she rushes him towards his model, telling him everything that she had to do in order to repair it. She warns him to be gentle with the main structure, as Ciara did quite a good job destroying it, and Caroline can’t be certain that they’re not weaker for it. But, all in all, everything is almost as pretty as it was when they first finished it days ago.

“Caroline,” Zayn breathes out, running his fingers along the stark white surface of his model, keeping his touch delicate. “You’ve saved my life. Again, as you always seem to do.”

She smiles at him, shrugging like it’s not a big deal. And it is. It is a very big deal, at least to Zayn.

“It’s my pleasure, Zayn. I’m always happy to help you out,” she tells him, side stepping into his hug, laughing when he kisses her cheek. “Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything. Anything at all.”

“Don't let that pretty little girl of yours anywhere near your models ever again.”

Zayn barks out a laugh, squeezing her shoulders before he pulls away, keeping his hands where they are so that he can look into her eyes. “I can guarantee that this will never happen again.”

“Well then, let’s get you going then. I hear your boss is a very impatient man.”

“Let me guess, Niall told you?”

“Of course,” she laughs, moving around the table to help ease the model into Zayn’s arms.

<>

Zayn huffs as he finishes, wetting his lips and waiting. His arms dangle uselessly at his sides, unsure of what to do with himself, as the clients begin looking over his model, having already heard everything that Zayn could think to say about it. He went over building materials, the solar panels they had insisted on, along with how he’s still managed to be cost effective, making the most out of their budget to give them the apartment complexes of their dreams.

In his opinion, Zayn thinks he’s done marvelously, but the silence is slowly killing him.

Louis is looking at him, watching him carefully as the clients continue to analyze every detail of his model. He prays that they don’t notice the repairs, no matter how perfectly Caroline has fixed them; it’s still not a chance Zayn wants to take.

“This is perfect,” they finally announce, causing Zayn’s body to sag in relief as Louis claps hands with the balding man, while his son stands to shake Zayn’s. “Honestly, this is wonderful,” he says. “It’s just what we envisioned.”

“Thank you so much,” Zayn breathes out, trying to hold himself up. He feels like he wants to just drop to the ground, all the energy spent worrying about this finally leaving his body in a quick rush that leaves him breathless.

“We’d like to meet for drinks later tonight to go over the final details, if that’s okay with you.”

“Later?” Zayn repeats, trying not to wince. “I don’t k—“ He looks up to see Louis glaring at him, one eyebrow raised in something that is definitely not amusement. “Okay. Yeah, sure, drinks sound great.”

“Perfect. We’ll see you at five thirty, then. There’s a lovely little bar on Washington, if you’ve been there before.”

“Five thirty?” Zayn repeats, trying not to wince. Ciara’s game is at six and he knows that Harry has things that he has to do today, and it’s—god. It’s the most inconvenient thing that could have happened. All of the stress he thought he lost is back, wrapping around him tightly. “That’s not a problem.”

Zayn waits until after the clients are gone before he drops down in one of the conference room chairs, trying not to freak the fuck out in front of his boss.

“Congratulations Zayn, I knew you could do it,” Louis says to him, smiling as he pats him on the back before he leaves the room.

Zayn just nods at him, resting his elbows on his knees and dropping his face in his hands. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Everything felt like it was slotting into place and now it feels like it’s crumbling once again, like nothing can go right about today, as pathetic as that sounds.

With a sigh, Zayn pulls his phone out and calls Harry.

“Hello, sunshine,” Harry sings into the phone, forcing Zayn to smile slightly. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your call?”

“I just wanted to let you know that my meeting was over. I’m finished. Did you get my text about where to meet?”

“I did, yeah. Did you get my marriage proposal?”

“Shut up,” Zayn laughs, shaking his head. “How are the girls?”

“The girls. Hmm, I don’t know. I haven’t seen them in ages.”

“Harry.”

“They’re fine,” Harry sighs. “They’re great. They’re having fun. Some people enjoy my company.”

“You mean children. Children enjoy your company.”

“Doesn’t make their opinion matter any less because they’re six. They’re still people, so my original statement still stands. People enjoy my company.”

“Well, I’ll have to talk to my daughter about that. I don’t know if I agree with the choices that she seems to be making lately, especially if she seems to be enjoying you.”

“Ha ha,” Harry mutters and Zayn has to bite down on his lip to stop the smile on his face. “And I feel like I should tell you that your daughter is going to be very bummed out if you insist that she come meet you now. We still have time left, you know.”

Zayn frowns, sitting up slowly and carefully. “You really want to keep them until two-thirty?” Zayn’s meeting did start a little early, but he thought Harry would be thrilled to hear that it started earlier and ending sooner than they both thought it would. “Are you sure?” He asks.

“Yeah, I’m sure. They’re having fun,” Harry tells him. And now that he mentions it, Zayn realizes that he can hear Ciara and Ruby in the background, the two of them laughing. Zayn smiles at the sound; he’s content to know that his daughter is having a good time. “Though you know,” Harry says, cutting into Zayn’s silence, “We’re missing you terribly.”

Zayn snorts. “I doubt that. Terribly.”

“It’s the truth. At least for me it is, I can’t really speak for the girls.”

“All right, Harry. Meet me at the fountain at two-thirty. Don’t be late.”

“Of course not, darli—“ Zayn hangs up before Harry can finish that sentiment, laughing as he does it.

<><><>

“So, Ciara. Tell me about your dad. What’s his deal?”

“Whose deal?” Ciara asks, frowning at him as she eats one of the fries out of the paper basket that she and Ruby are sharing.

“He means your Baba,” Ruby corrects, looking at Harry like he really should know this by now.

“No, I mean her dad. The other one,” Harry says, watching as Ruby frowns for a second, sucking on one of the juice boxes he pulled out of Ciara’s bag. The one Ciara offered to give her, if Zayn asks him. “What’s he like?”

Ciara shrugs. “I don’t know. He’s a daddy. He’s big and tall, and he sings! He sings with his friends and sometimes they travel around the world, so he’s gone a lot.”

“He’s a singer, huh? Is that why you live with your dad?” Harry asks, passing her a napkin when some of her ketchup spills out of her hotdog and onto her chin. “Do you get to see him often?”

Harry’s not sure why the details of Zayn’s life are important to him. And maybe they’re not, maybe he’s just trying to make conversation with a little girl that, while being his daughter’s friend, is also stuck with him for the next hour or so. So, it’s not really about Zayn, it’s more about Harry being a responsible parent, wanting to know the kind of kids that his daughter spends her time with.

He’s not spying on Zayn. He’s not…questioning his daughter so that he can learn more about him to make him—Well, Harry’s not going to woo him or anything. He has some self-respect. Some. Not a lot, but enough to not use the information Zayn’s daughter is giving him to his advantage.

“Thank you,” she mutters, smiling. “I see him when he’s home. Usually. He works a lot. But I live with Baba because he works here. He doesn’t go everywhere like my daddy.”

“He’s a good Baba,” Harry decides, smiling at her when she nods.

“Why do you have two dads?” Ruby asks, still frowning at Ciara like she doesn’t understand. “Is it fun?”

“I guess,” Ciara mutters. “And I don’t know. Baba says that some people have no dads, some have one, and some have two. It just depends.”

“I only have one,” Ruby announces, looking up at Harry.

Harry ruffles her hair, laughing when she swats his hand away. “What about your dad, Ruby? What’s he like?”

“Weird,” Ruby laughs, stroking her backpack, feeling the fake fur of the cat between her fingers.

“And smelly,” Ciara adds, giggling behind her hands. Harry mock glares at her and then pretends to pout. “You smell like the stinky spray in my Baba’s bathroom.”

“Stinky spray?”

“Yeah, he puts it on before he goes to work. It’s in a glass bottle.”

“Oh, you mean cologne.” Harry nods in understanding. He can be made fun of for smelling like that. It’s not the worst thing that someone has accused him of smelling of, not like people normally tell him how badly he stinks. “Most people think it smells good.”

“I think it stinks,” Ruby cries out, forcing Ciara to laugh even harder.

Harry shakes his head, checking the time as the two of them laugh it out. He grabs their trash off the curb and tosses it into the trashcan next to the stairs, glancing up at the museum entrance to see that the line has dissipated to almost nothing.

“Okay funny girls, our hotdogs are finished, and Ciara, as soon as you finish that juice then we can go inside. We’ve got dinosaurs waiting for us.”

Ciara nods, drinking as quickly as she can before she tosses the juice box into the trash. She grabs her bag, tossing it onto her back before her and Ruby take off running.

The stairs leading up to the museum are staggered, with a few steps between every landing until they reach the actual entrance stairs. Harry lets them run, keep a slow pace behind them. He pulls his phone out of his pocket when he hears it chime, seeing that Nick has texted him the address of the restaurant that Katherine Hertz is enjoying her lunch at.

Harry shoves his phone in his pocket and looks up just in time to see Ciara fall onto the ground. It happens so quickly that Harry’s not sure if it was the pavement or her feet, but he watches her fall, coming down quickly before she starts crying, Ruby shouting for Harry.

“What happened? What happened?” Harry asks, rushing over and dropping down on the ground next to Ciara. He very carefully and gently helps her move so that she’s sitting on her butt instead of lying on her stomach. “Oh no,” he sighs, looking at the cuts on her knees. “Shit. Okay. Shit.”

“What do we do, Daddy?” Ruby asks frantically, leaning against his back so she can peer over his shoulder to see what’s going on. “Are you okay, Ciara?”

Ciara sniffs, her eyes welling up with tears and Ruby drops down on the ground next to her, pulling in her for a hug. She looks at Harry pitifully and Harry feels awful. He rubs at his face, trying to figure out if he can get her into the museum bathroom so he can clean it up properly, because there’s not much that he can do out here, except maybe a bottle of water and a napkin.

“Ciara, we have to get you inside, okay? I’m gonna carry you in there. I’m so sorry,” he says.

“Harry, my bag,” Ciara hiccups. “Inside of it, look.”

“What? I’ll look later. We need to get you cleaned up first.”

“No, Harry. My bag.”

Harry sighs, holding his hand for Ruby to pass it over as she helps Ciara take it off, shrugging when Harry looks at her. He unzips it slowly, peeking in before he looks back up at Ciara. “Is that good?”

“Harry,” Ciara groans, snatching the bag out of Harry’s hands and pulling out a small little bag inside of it, white with pink stars on it. She hands it to Harry and motions for him to open it.

With a sigh, Harry unzips the bag and almost laughs when he finds what’s inside of it. “A first aid kit,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Your Baba is one prepared man, isn’t it? Does he really make you do this?”

“Do what?”

“Carry this around,” he says, pulling out everything he’ll need and setting it down on his leg. “Girls your age don’t normally carry around first aid kits, you know.”

“Baba says it’s smart to be prepared,” Ciara informs him, rubbing the tears off her cheek. She’s no longer crying, instead she’s resting her head on Ruby’s shoulder and watching as Harry cleans her wounds up before bandaging them, two neon pink stripes on her knees. “Thank you, Harry.

“It’s not a problem, sweetie,” he assures her, handing her back her bag when he puts the kit inside of it. “How about we don’t tell your Baba about this. Do you think we can do that?” Harry knows that Zayn is going to find the bandages, but it’s scraped knees, and Harry really doesn’t want to be chewed out over something that’s supposed to happen to children. Zayn knows it, but he’ll still find a way to make it seem like Harry did it on purpose. Maybe. Possibly. Harry just doesn’t want to test his luck.

“Deal,” Ciara and Ruby repeat at the same time, taking Harry’s extended hands and moving up the stairs towards the museum, this time at much slower rate than before.

<>

“Your dad is gonna kill us,” Harry groans, tightening his hold on Ruby and Ciara as they run through the city to make it to Zayn on time. “He’s gonna kill us, he’s gonna kill us, he’s gonna kill us.” Harry continues chanting that mantra as he runs, knowing that Zayn is probably going to shove him into the fountain when they get there, possibly after he kills him.

“No, he won’t. He only acts grumpy sometimes. He’s not really grumpy,” Ciara informs him.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see if that’s true when we get there.”

“We’re almost there,” Ruby shouts, pointing towards the fountain up ahead.

“Thank god,” Harry mutters. “And Ciara, what do you mean he only acts grumpy?”

“I don’t know,” she replies. “Sometimes he gets grumpy when he’s around people. Especially men. He’s very shy. That’s what my gram says, but she also says he’s very warm. She calls him sunshine.”

Harry hums, weaving the girls through a group of people as they continue running towards Zayn. He’s standing at the front of the fountain, checking his watch nervously as he chews on his bottom lip. Harry lets the girls hands go so that they can run ahead towards him. He looks relieved when he sees Ciara, hugging her and brushing her hair, adjusting the flowery headband there.

“Alive and in one piece, that’s how you wanted her, right?”

Zayn looks up at him and smiles, patting Ciara on the back before her and Ruby rush to examine the fountain. “Yeah, one piece is good, I think,” Zayn mumbles, watching the girls. “Ciara, be careful.”

“Leave her be, she’s having fun,” Harry tells him, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You were almost late,” Zayn says and Harry has to force himself not to roll his eyes.

“Yeah well, it happens. The girls were having fun and we lost track of time.” Zayn nods and Harry watches him, remembering Ciara’s comment about how Zayn only pretends to be grumpy sometimes, especially towards other men. It makes him wonder if Zayn really doesn’t like him or if it’s some kind of defense mechanism that he’s using to keep his distance. “You know, I’m not like every other man that you’ve met, or whichever ones you’re comparing me to, anyway,” he says, because if Zayn is being rude to him because of things in his past, he should know that those aren’t Harry’s doing.

Zayn just looks at him, blinking and frowning slightly. “Well, I’m not what you think I am.”

“I think you’re a control freak,” Harry tells him honestly, shrugging when Zayn’s jaw goes slack.

“Yeah. Well, maybe I am,” says Zayn, shrugging. “But I’m the only one who does anything anyway, so what does it matter to you?”

“Maybe you wouldn’t have to be if you let someone help you out.”

Zayn laughs. “No, it’d just—it’d throw everything off. I have—I have it handled.”

Harry nods. “But you’re not a control freak?”

“No, I’m not.” Zayn glares at him, folding his arms over his chest. “And anyway, don’t you have some place you should be? Like work, maybe?”

“That I do.” Harry looks at Zayn for just a moment longer but he turns towards his daughter. “Ruby, I’ll see you later, okay?” She turns and waves at him, grinning. He waves back, blowing her a kiss before he turns to face Zayn once more. “My press conference is at five, should be over by five thirty, maybe sooner. I’ll call you.”

“Five thirty,” Zayn repeats, biting on his lip. “Not any sooner?”

“No, not any sooner.”

“Right, okay. That’s fine, I’ll figure it out.” Zayn smiles and Harry nods, wondering what Zayn is hiding from him. “Um, do you have anything that you want to tell me about Ruby?”

“No,” Harry laughs. “You’ll figure it out.” He offers Zayn a salute, winking at him before he turns on his heel and heads in the direction of the restaurant.

<>

The Ivory is fancier than Harry is dressed for, in black jeans and a pale blue shirt, but aside from a few stares, no one says anything to him. He nods to the maitre d, ignoring him completely to make it appear like he belongs here and he knows what he’s doing.

Harry releases a deep breath when he sees the shockingly white interior, far too pristine to actually be a restaurant, with floor to ceiling windows along the front, and chairs covered in white cloth, tables made of rich colored woods. He really is the odd man out.

Based on a quick Google search, Harry knows that Katherine is a tall, slender woman with sharp eyes, almost cat-like, with a knack for wearing the color red. Well, Google didn’t tell him that, but in most of her pictures she was wearing red.

Harry walks down the aisles of tables, paying careful attention to the brunette women, only looking long enough to appear casual instead of like some kind of creep.

Eventually, Harry just starts asking if Katherine Hertz is sitting with them, trying not to take offense to some of the looks that he gets.

“Excuse me, I’m sorry to be bothering you, I was wondering if you happened to be eating lunch with Katherine Hertz?”

The woman sitting at the table looks up at him, big doe eyes that look shockingly familiar. “Harry, is that you?”

“Um, yes. I’m sorry, do I know you?” Harry asks, frowning as the woman laughs, covering his hand with her own.

“I’m Trisha. Trisha Malik,” she says, laughing when Harry frowns. “Zayn’s mom.”

“Oh. Oh, right. Hi, how are you?”

“I’m great, what are you doing here?”

Harry waves around, motioning towards the restaurant. “I’m here for lunch, I just can’t find my party, is all. Late lunch, obviously. Early dinner, maybe?” Harry breathes out, trying to glance around the restaurant. “Actually, I just spent quite a bit of time with your granddaughter.”

Trisha seems shocked by that, her eyebrows growing up quickly before she smiles. “Is that right? How interesting,” she mutters. “You know this morning I was shocked to hear you answering my son’s phone, but Zayn has always loved his secrets.” She sighs, shaking her head. “He can be a little distant at times, but you know, he’s just scared to open up, that’s all.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Harry smiles.

“Oh that’s lovely, because really, he’s just worried that he feels more than other people, you know how it is,” she says and Harry nods, smiling. “But if you just wait a little bit longer, if you’re patient with him, he really is just so wonderful. I’m sure you know that though, don’t you? Hardly need my advice.”

Harry stares down at Zayn’s mother for a moment, just blinking at her. “Huh,” he mutters, because well.

Well, it sounds like she’s trying to give Harry advice to date her son.

“Right. Of course, I’ll keep that in mind.” He shakes his head, glancing up just in time to see Katherine leaving the bathroom on the other side of the dining area. “Trisha, I’m afraid that I really need to go make this lunch date.”

“Of course dear, it was lovely chatting with you,” she says, beaming at him before she waves him off.

Harry smiles at her, squeezing her hand before she lets go of him. He can see that she’s pulling her phone out and he doesn’t pay it much mind, he can’t, not when he finally has the key to possibly not losing his job sitting just a few feet away from them.

“Katherine Hertz?”

“Yes,” the woman says, looking up at him slowly and carefully, a man in a suit stepping out of nowhere behind her.

Harry swallows, wiping his sweating hands on his shirt. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’m Harry Styles and—“ Katherine grins at his name, waving at the man in the suit.

“Take a seat, please.”

“Um, yeah. Of course,” Harry nods, scrambling to take the seat across from her. He almost wants to look up at the man in the suit, just to give him a look that says ‘see, I’m allowed to be here.’ “Do you know why I’m here?” He asks instead, because her smile feels a little eerie, white teeth shining in stark contrast to bright red lipstick. And see, Harry knew something on her would be red.

“The illegal accounts.”

“Yeah, the illegal accounts,” Harry repeats. “Wait, you know about them?”

“Of course I do,” Katherine laughs, shaking her head like Harry just said something funny. “Just like I know my husband has taken his mistress onto one of his latest…business trips.”

“Business trip?”

“I’m not the fool my husband thinks I am,” she says. “If you’re looking for a statement from me, Mr. Styles, I suggest you get out your phone or a pen, because I have both the account numbers and the deposit slips, all of which are in his name from our lovely mayor, proof of transactions taking place between the two.”

<>

Harry breathes out, leaning back in his seat and smiling at Katherine. The woman is a godsend, honestly. Harry has everything he needs to prove his story is true and more; Katherine providing details that Harry could not have ever dreamed about getting. And it’s just like his mother used to tell him, sometimes things fall apart so even better things can come together, and this is that.

Ed pulling out has proven to be a gift in disguise, coming in the form of a beautiful woman fed up with being lied to by a man who claims to love her.

“Katherine, I don’t know how to thank you for this, honestly,” he says, shaking his head. “This is—Wow.”

“Don’t thank me,” she says, gathering up her things. “I’ll see you at that press conference tonight.”

“God. Yeah, thank you. Five o’clock at the City Hall.”

“Perfect, I’ll see you then.”

Harry smiles, watching as she walks out of the building with the man in the suit. Her bodyguard, maybe, Harry’s not sure. He didn’t bother them after Harry initially sat down, letting them go over everything that she knew about the scandal, giving Harry a full timeline of events that he didn’t even know about.

“Oh my god,” he mutters to himself, rubbing at his face before he grabs his phone, standing and rushing out of the restaurant dialing Nick’s number. He pays little attention to all the missed call notifications that he has, instead wanting to tell his boss the news.

“Katherine Hertz is an angel sent from heaven,” he says as soon as Nick answers, waving at a cab rounding the corner. “She has given me more than enough information to prove everything that Ed has already said and then some.”

“Good afternoon to you too, or evening I should say, since it’s nearly five.”

“Yes it is, I’m just getting into a cab and I’ll be at City Hall soon enough.”

Nick hums. “Good. But Harry, you should know that the uppers have already had a meeting with your replacement. You really need to knock this out of the park, I hope you know that.”

“Don’t worry about how I’m going to do, all right? I’ve got this under control. Katherine is already on her way there, she’s going to meet me and confirm everything that I’ve already said, minus exclusive details that are for us only, to be given to the world tomorrow.”

“I really hope you’re right,” Nick sighs, “because for some reason, I really enjoy working with you.”

“And you’re going to enjoy working with me even more, because I’ve met someone,” Harry tells him, waving down another cab that turns the corner and rushing to get inside. He tells the driver City Hall and then sits back, folding one leg over the other.

With everything finally falling into place for himself, Harry can’t help but reflect back on his encounter with Zayn’s mother, her giving him advice about Zayn. And well, he’s already told Zayn that she wants him married, so it should be no surprise that she would offer him dating advice the first time they met in person.

“Someone?”

“Yeah, I’ve met a really lovely boy today, Nick. I don’t even know how to describe him. He’s,” Harry sighs, laughing under his breath, “He’s a control freak, if we’re being honest, a little stuck up, far too beautiful to be fair, but. He pushes me. I like that.”

Nick laughs into the phone. “Harry, your career is on the line and you’re talking to me about your next conquest?”

“He’s not a conquest, Nick.”

“Right,” Nick mumbles. “Well, how about you get your shit together and focus on this press conference, then you can worry about your boy.”

“Will do,” Harry tells him, laughing when Nick hangs up on. Normally, he would think it was a little rude and feel a bit peeved about it, but today, in this very moment, Harry’s not sure anything can bring him down.

Harry hits the button to light up his phone and sighs when he sees the time. Not much longer now. Not much longer until he’s going after the governor and the mayor, a one man army trying to take down an unjust system years in the making with the governor’s wife. It’s crazy to think about, so he tries his hardest not to, choosing instead to stare out of the window and think about what Zayn might be doing with the girls.

Harry opens his phone, ready to make a call to Zayn until it starts ringing in his hand, a number the he doesn’t recognize. “Hello?” Harry greets, praying that it’s not Katherine calling to say she can’t actually make the press conference.

“Mr. Styles, It’s Lieutenant Ramirez from the 21st precinct, we were able to locate your daughter.”

Harry blinks. “You what?”

<><><>

Zayn takes the girls to an ice cream parlor a few blocks from the fountain, a congratulations on an excellent presentation treat for himself and a sorry for taking you to the Drop-In for the girls. Neither of them seems upset about it, but still. Zayn’s day is finally looking up so the least he can do is make sure that the girls continue to have a good day.

They find a table near the windows, sitting down with three large bowls of ice cream: triple chocolate, rainbow sherbet, and cookie dough. Once the girls figure out which one they want to start out with, Zayn passes out the spoons and watches as they dig in.

“So, what did you with Harry while I was working?” Zayn asks, hoping that he sounds curious because he’s interested and not because he doesn’t trust Harry with his daughter. It’s honestly a little bit of both, but. The girls don’t need to know that.

“Um. We went to see the dinosaurs at the museum,” Ciara tells him, smiling around a mouthful of sherbet. “And we ate lunch on the stairs outside.”

“Yeah, we even went into the fancy room at the museum where they keep all the jewels,” Ruby tacks on.

Ciara lights up at that, nodding vigorously. “Harry let us pick out which ones we wanted.”

“Oh? And what did you pick?” asks Zayn.

“I picked this thing that you stick to your shirt that looks like the sun,” Ruby exclaims, eyes wide in excitement. “Daddy called it an opal.”

“Oh that sounds pretty.” Ruby nods in agreement. “Here, let’s switch while Ciara talks,” Zayn says, sliding his cookie dough towards Ruby, who slides her chocolate to Ciara while Ciara shoves the rainbow sherbet towards Zayn.

“It was a necklace, Baba. It had all these circles that looped around,” Ciara says, motioning around her chest to try and demonstrate what she’s talking about. “It was layers with purple diamonds.”

“They weren’t pink diamonds,” Ruby argues. “Remember? Daddy said they were pink sapphires.”

Ciara nods. “Yeah, I remember. Baba, can I get some pink sapphires?”

Zayn laughs, forcing the sherbet down his throat roughly. “Baba will need a few more promotions and raises before he can afford sapphires babes, but I could get you something with pink jewels. Maybe.”

Ciara sighs. “Okay, that’ll work. Maybe Daddy could get me some too, then I’ll have two necklaces.”

“He might, you’ll have to ask him,” Zayn mumbles, sighing, because if Derek won’t shell out money for child support most of the time, he won’t buy Ciara sapphires, but then again, she’s only six. If Derek were to buy her sapphires Zayn would have quite a few things to say about that, he thinks. “Is that all you did with Harry?”

“I had a milkshake with Daddy already today, did you know that?”

“He took you two to get ice cream?” Zayn asks.

“No,” Ruby says, shaking her head. “He took me for brunch. He called it brunch.”

“Oh,” Zayn mutters, feeling a little bad now.

Well, Ciara and Ruby haven’t had the best day, with missing their field trip and being carted around after their parents before being dropped off at the Drop-In, so Zayn’s not going to worry about it too much. They’ll brush their teeth tonight, and in Ciara’s case, they’ll eat a healthy dinner and it’ll balance the junk out. They’re kids. They need junk like ice cream every once in a while.

“Baba, Harry thinks he’s pretty funny. He told a lot of dinosaur jokes,” Ciara informs him.

“He is funny,” Ruby declares.

“Oh? Okay. Well, did he have anything good?”

“I know a joke,” Ruby chimes in, cutting Ciara off before she can say anything. “Do you want to hear it?”

Ciara sighs, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, let’s hear it as we switch. I want to try that chocolate,” Zayn says, sliding his ice cream over as he takes Ciara’s.

“Okay, this is good,” Ruby decides, clearing her throat. “Why didn’t the ice cream go to school?”

“Oh no,” Ciara mutters.

“Because it was sundae,” Ruby laughs. “Do you get it?”

Zayn bites back a smile. “Yeah, I get it.” He looks at Ciara, who is staring at him like, ‘see, I told you,’ and ‘why did you have to start this?’ “That was a good one, Ruby.”

“Thanks, my dad tells it when we eat ice cream sometimes. It’s one of my favorites.”

“They have a lot of jokes,” Ciara mumbles, shaking her head. “A lot.”

“Well. It sounds like you two have had a pretty good day for missing your field trip, right? Or, is there more?”

The girls share a look and when Ciara opens her mouth, Ruby pales.

“Ow,” Ciara cries. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Say anything about what?”

“Nothing,” they chime at the same time, taking bites of their ice cream so they can’t talk.

Zayn hums, licking his spoon as he stares at them, trying to figure out what they could be hiding from him.

“We promised Harry that we wouldn’t tell,” Ciara says, and Zayn knew she’d crack first. She’s never been very good at keeping a secret. Fortunately for him, Harry doesn’t know that bit of information.

“Oh, I see. Well, can you tell me what it’s about?”

“No, we can’t,” says Ruby. “My dad will be mad.”

“Is it about me?” They share a look. “Oh, so it’s about me. Okay. Hmm… what could Harry tell you about me?”

“It’s only kind of about you,” Ciara says. “It’s about someone else, too.”

“Someone else?” Zayn mutters, nodding. It takes a minute, but eventually, he thinks he understands what the secret might be. Maybe. “Is it about Harry, too?”

“Uh, kind of,” Ruby mutters, looking at Ciara for help. Ciara shrugs and then nods. “Yeah, it’s about you and Harry.”

Zayn sighs, shaking his head. Honestly.

Honestly, Harry is just—Well, Zayn can admit that he’s a little bit happy to hear it, if it’s what he thinks it is, and he’s pretty sure that it is. Really, what else could be able about besides Harry’s more than obvious crush on him. He’s already seen the bandages on Ciara’s knees that Harry neglected to mention – hot pink is really hard to hide against Ciara’s skin – or maybe he just forgot to mention it in his haste to get into work. It’s not a big deal, his daughter is clumsy sometimes, he knows this.

So really, the secret being about him and Harry… It’s not surprising, because like he’s already established, it’s a very obvious crush, and it sort of sets off a tiny flutter in Zayn’s stomach at the idea of Harry having feelings for him.

“Do you want to tell Baba what the secret is?” Zayn asks, hopeful. Both the girls giggle and shake their heads, taking a bite of the ice creams in front of them. “Okay, rotate again and I bet I’ll figure it out.”

“You won’t, Baba, I know you won’t,” Ciara laughs, shoving her bowl across the table towards him.

“It’s about me and Harry, though, so. I think I should be able to guess at least, right?”

Ruby shrugs.

“Is it about…feelings?” Zayn asks, twirling his spoon around and shoving a bit of cookie dough to the side.

Ruby and Ciara exchange a look. “Feelings?” They repeat.

“What does that mean?” Ruby asks.

“Feelings, you know. Things you feel. Happiness, anger, excitement, and sadness: those are all feelings, but it could also be about, well. It could be about getting a bowl of ice cream, or it could be about a person. You know. Feelings,” Zayn explains, watching the two girls carefully.

“It’s definitely about feelings, Baba,” Ciara decides.

“Definitely,” Ruby agrees. “And you know, Zayn, my dad’s favorite ice cream is cookie dough? He really likes it.”

“Really likes it, huh,” Zayn mutters, and well. He definitely knows what the actual secret is. The girls might as well have written it in the sky with how obvious they’re being. “I think I know what the secret is.”

Ruby’s eyes go wide. “Are you mad?”

“What?” Zayn laughs, shaking his head. “No, why would I be mad?”

“Harry said you’d be mad, but I told him you’re not really grumpy.”

“Daddy thinks you’ll hate him.”

“What? No, that’s just—“ Well, Zayn has been less than pleasant to Harry throughout the duration of the day. He’s said a few things that he’s not exactly proud of, nothing too awful, and if after all that, Harry’s developed feelings for him, then Zayn’s sure that there is no way he could hate Harry for feeling something for him. “Your daddy is silly, Ruby. I don’t hate him.”

“So you’re not mad at him?”

“No,” Zayn sighs. “But he should have told me, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, maybe,” reasons Ciara, shrugging.

Their quiet for a little while, switching the ice cream bowls one last time so they’re all eating their favorites. Ruby tells another ice cream joke that has her absolutely cackling at the table, while Ciara mostly looks like she’s suffering. Mostly suffering to hide her smile, if Zayn knows his daughter at all.

“How about we do some shopping after this?” Zayn asks. “We could go find something fun at a store and maybe play in the park while we wait for Harry?”

“Can I come too?” Ruby asks.

Zayn laughs. “Of course.”

<>

“What can we get?”

“Well, I was thinking we could get something to play with in the park.”

“Hmm,” Ciara hums, looking thoughtful.

“What about we get a ball so you can practice before your soccer game, if you want to,” Zayn suggests, watching both girls shrug.

“Can we still look around?” Ruby asks.

Zayn nods, motioning for them to lead the way. It’s a rush to keep up with them. They force Zayn to weave through the crowd as they rush around frantically, wanting to get their hands on everything that they can.

The girls take great joy in showing Zayn some of the sillier things that they find, like a bouncy ball made to look like a brain, or a pile of green goo that sticks to the walls when you throw it, and they demonstrate that a few times.

“Baba, look. It’s a robot,” Ciara mutters in awe, grinning at the yellow and silver dog in front of her. “What does it do?”

“I don’t know, see if there’s a button on it or something.”

“Hey, I know a good robot joke,” Ruby pipes in, nodding and grinning at them.

Ciara sighs. “Ruby, please.”

Zayn places a hand on his daughter’s shoulder, subtly shaking his head at her. “Go ahead, Ruby, let’s hear it.”

“Okay,” she says, clearing her throat. “Beep beep boop beep.”

Ciara looks up at Zayn before glancing back down at Ruby. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

“It’s robot,” Ruby says, like that actually explains anything. “My dad loves that joke.”

Zayn bites back a smile. “It was good, Ruby. I think Ciara’s just confused because we don’t speak robot.”

“Yeah, and it’s a tough one. My dad says only people who really understand jokes can get it.”

“Well, I’d say he’s right.”

“I say we don’t tell anymore jokes,” Ciara decides, hitting something on the robot dog so it starts barking.

“Oh,” Ruby cries, her eyes lighting up. “Wait, one more joke.”

“Ruby, I don’t want to hear robot jokes.”

“It’s not a robot joke, it’s a dog joke.”

“Okay, tell us then,” Zayn tells her, bracing himself for the laugh he’s going to do strictly on the principle that she’s a kid and her jokes deserve to be laughed at. She deserves to feel funny, even if Zayn is like his daughter in the sense that he really doesn’t understand half of these.

“Right. A dog walks into a bar. No, no. Two dogs walk into a bar,” Ruby corrects, “and one wags his tail and says ‘bark, bark, bark’.”

Zayn startles himself when he laughs for real, clapping his hand over his mouth as Ruby beams at him. Ciara looks at Ruby before shaking her head.

“That was good, I liked that one,” Zayn tells Ruby, smiling at her when her smile widens. Her response is cut off as Zayn’s phone starts to ring from inside his pocket. “It’s Gram,” Zayn says, debating on if he should answer the phone or not. “You two stay close, okay? I’ll be right behind you, but don’t run off.”

“Okay, Baba,” Ciara says, not looking up at him as she and Ruby continue messing with the robot dog.

“Hey, mom,” Zayn greets, brushing Ciara’s hair for a second before he takes a step back, eyes on the girls. “You wouldn’t believe the day that I’ve been having. It’s been,” he sighs, shaking head, “a long one.”

“Oh? Anything exciting happen?” His mom asks, her voice light. There’s a bit of light noise behind here, letting Zayn know that she’s somewhere in public.

“Yeah, you could say that. Ciara missed her field trip, I couldn’t find anyone to watch her, and then—“

“Well, you know what could help with that?”

“With what?”

“With not having anyone to watch her,” she laughs.

“If this is the part where you decide to tell me I need a nanny,” Zayn mutters, hoping that his mother at least knows he’s not going to do that. Wouldn’t even if he could. He’s sure that’s fine for some parents, but it’s not for him.

Zayn’s mom laughs into the phone, loud and amused. “No. Never that, sunshine, I was just going to suggest that maybe you need a boyfriend, that’s all,” she says, and Zayn can hear the amusement in her voice, “if you know anyone that could fit that role for you, of course.”

Zayn sighs, scratching the back of his neck as Ciara motions to him that they’re going to move towards something else. Zayn nods at her, following behind as they dart across the store.

“You know, I was thinking that maybe…yeah. I have been thinking about that.”

“Oh? Have you?” And something about her tone makes it sound like she’s not surprised to hear that.

“Yeah, I mean,” Zayn cuts himself off, laughing, “you’re going to think this is the most ridiculous thing.”

“Hmm, tell me and I’ll decide.”

“Right, yeah,” Zayn nods, taking a deep breath. “You remember how I mentioned Ciara missed her field trip this morning?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, she wasn’t the only one who missed the field trip. One of her friends did as well, and I met her father. He’s kind of—Well, it was a really rough morning. We got into a fight next to the boat dock, and then, get this, our phones were switched, so after we get done screaming at each other, we find this out,” Zayn explains, frowning as he realizes something. “Wait, you already knew that. How did you already know that?”

“I called your phone this morning, sunshine. Harry answered. We spoke for a bit.”

“Right, he said that you—“ Zayn groans as he remembers Harry telling him that his mom was planning their wedding or whatever he said about them getting married. “Oh god, you embarrassed me, didn’t you?”

“Me? Of course not,” she tells him. “He said that he had your phone, I told him to call me, that’s it. I swear.”

Zayn breathes a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as he runs his fingers along a display of different board games. He does a head count on Ciara and Ruby, watching them as they play with the train set on display.

“Though, I did talk to him again just now.”

“You what?” Zayn asks, standing up straighter. “What does that mean?”

“He was just in this restaurant I’m at. He’s getting lunch with some woman, the governor’s wife, I overheard them talking about deposit slips,” his mom explains like it means absolutely nothing that she and Harry had been speaking without Zayn even getting a subconscious hint that something was happening, since no one else has mentioned it until now. “He really is the cutest thing, though.”

“He’s—yeah.”

“We talked about your for a bit.”

Zayn groans. “No, please don’t tell me that. Please don’t do that.”

Trisha laughs. “Why not?”

“Because I’m pretty sure that he told our kids that he likes me, so. Yeah. I’d rather not know that he spoke to not only my daughter but my own mother, as well. Wait, mom, hold on,” Zayn says, stepping towards Ciara. “What are you doing, babes?”

“It’s stuck,” Ciara cries, slapping at the tunnel where she’s shoved a train car inside. It’s definitely too small for that and Zayn groans, gently shifting her out of the way so he can figure it out.

“You shouldn’t break things that don’t belong to you, Ciara.”

“I didn’t break it, Baba. It just got stuck.”

“Yeah, okay. I can see that,” Zayn sighs, feeling a slight pain in his thumb from where he’s shoving the train, praying nothing breaks. “Why don’t you and Ruby run and grab that ball so we can play with it in the park, and I’ll take care of this.”

“Okay. But, Baba, I don’t know where Ruby is.”

“What?” Zayn startles, glancing up quickly. “Where is she?”

Ciara shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Oh my god,” Zayn mutters, grabbing Ciara’s hand. “Ruby,” He calls, moving quickly and peeking around the store. “God please don’t be happening right now.”

“What’s going on?” His mom asks and Zayn ignores her, calling Ruby’s name once more, along with Ciara as they navigate through the store.

The store is a little more packed than it was when they first arrived, more people filing inside as it begins to rain outside, and with the increase in people, Zayn spots several blonde little girls but none of them Ruby. Zayn’s stomach falls down to the floor, twisting completely.

“Oh my god,” Zayn mutters. “Harry is going to want absolutely nothing to do with me, because I’ve lost his daughter. Oh fuck, mom. I need to call you back. Shit.” He hangs up quickly, unzipping Ciara’s bag and pulling out her raincoat. “Come on, get this on. We need to figure out where Ruby went. Oh my god, where would she have gone?”

“I don’t know,” Ciara tells him, letting him slip the jacket on before putting her bag back on her back. She pulls the hood on herself and then holds out her hand, wrapping her fingers around Zayn’s as they move quickly.

“Do not let go of Baba’s hand, okay? We need to find Ruby and the last thing I need to do is lose you too, got it?”

“Got it.”

Zayn releases a shaky breath, pushing open the toy store door and moving into the rain.

Together, the two of them shout Ruby’s name, out into the street and into different stores that they pass. Zayn asks every person he sees if they’ve seen a little girl with a cat bag, blonde hair and alone. No one helps him, most of them saying no while a large majority ignore him, and Zayn hates living in the city. Hates that none of these people can pull their heads out of their asses to see, to understand that a child is missing right now.

A child that isn’t even his, to make matters worse. No. He doesn’t want Ciara to get lost, but well. Just. Okay, Ruby was placed in his care. Harry trusted him with her, with her safety and wellbeing, but Zayn lost his daughter.

He lost her.

The longer it takes without finding her, the more Zayn can feel himself beginning to get hysterical. His body is shaking and he keeps raking his fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands as they dampen, wondering what he’s going to do and how he’s going to find Ruby.

“Fuck,” Zayn groans, closing his eyes and releasing a harsh breath. When he opens his eyes, he looks down at Ciara, swallowing at the look on her face. “Hey, it’s okay. We’ll find her, don’t worry.”

Ciara nods but doesn’t say anything, so Zayn takes a deep breath, wondering what he’s going to do. He thinks about where they’re at, trying to draw the map up in his head so he can figure out what is around them.

A police station.

God, as much as Zayn doesn’t want to have to do this, he’s going to have to. If it were Ciara, he’d want Harry to do everything imaginable, including involving the authorities.

“Ciara, I need you to be on your very best behavior when we get to where we’re going. Can you do that for me?”

“Yeah,” she says, squinting to keep the rain out of her eyes as she looks up at him.

<>

Zayn’s hands shake as he stands in front of the officer in the police station. He doesn’t want to be in a place like this, doesn’t want to bring Ciara into a place like this, but he lost Harry’s daughter. What else is he supposed to do?

“Her name is Ruby. Um—“

“Styles,” Ciara finishes, smiling up at him.

Zayn releases a deep breath, nodding. He needs to stay calm. He doesn’t want to make things worse for himself by freaking out and causing a scene, so he takes another breath and then says, “She’s about as tall as my daughter here, with um…blonde hair and green eyes. Light green.”

“What was she wearing?” The officer asks, looking far too bored for someone who is being informed about a missing child. Isn’t stuff like this supposed to be top priority?

“A white shirt that had some kind of picture on it.”

“It didn’t have a picture, Baba. And she had a green sweater.”

“She did? Yeah, she did,” Zayn says, nodding. “And I think she was wearing light colored jeans.”

“And she has a cat bag,” Ciara supplies. “It was really soft and furry.”

“All right, so we’ve got a little girl about six years old, about three feet tall, blonde hair, green eyes, wearing a green sweater over a white shirt, and also wearing a pair of light colored jeans. Her name is Ruby Styles, is that everything?” The cop asks, looking at Zayn.

“Yeah, I think that’s everything. Ciara?”

“I think so, yeah,” Ciara agrees, nodding.

The cop nods and then begins to tell them that they’ll issue an alert for her, promising to have officers in the area keep an eye out for her, while also checking in with local businesses to see if they’ve seen her, and to make sure that they keep an eye out for her.

Zayn leaves Harry’s number with them, and his own, just in case, because he’d really like to be the first person to know if she’s found.

Zayn doesn’t know what to do after that, so he sits down in one of the plastic chairs, pulling Ciara into his lap and breathing into her shoulder. He feels like the world’s biggest asshole, losing someone else’s kid when they took such great care with his own.

Of course it was an accident, Zayn would never mean for anything to happen to Ruby, but that doesn’t mean Harry will be understanding or even forgive Zayn. And Zayn can only imagine Harry seeing the alert on his phone and finding out that his own daughter is missing. Fuck, Zayn has to tell him.

Zayn tries Harry’s phone seven times before he groans, trying to find Harry’s office number before he calls them frantically, only to be told that Harry’s not in the office but they’ll pass along his message, which is fucking useless to him right now, because who knows how long it will be when Harry actually gets told that Zayn called.

God, what is he going to do?

Zayn’s treated Harry poorly all day, he has done nothing but insult him. Harry has been so tolerant of everything that Zayn has thrown at him. And despite all of his bullshit, Harry still took perfect care of his daughter. He treated Ciara perfectly, even going so far as to bandage her skinned knees, leaving pink bandages over them, and how does Zayn return the favor? He loses his daughter. He lets Harry’s daughter go missing.

Zayn really wants to freak the fuck out properly but he can’t, he really can’t. He has Ciara in his lap, and he’s not even really sure if she fully understands what is happening, and if she doesn’t, then he doesn’t want to freak her out.

So if he can’t freak out, then he’s going to do something. He’s not going to sit on his ass in a police station and hope that they’ll listen to him, and he’s not going to sit on his ass and hope Harry returns his calls. He’s going to do something.

One quick glance at his phone tells him that Harry’s press conference is in ten minutes.

“Okay,” Zayn mutters, lifting Ciara off his lap and setting her down on the ground. “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

“Where are we going, Baba? What about Ruby?”

“I know, babes. We’re going to go find Harry. We have to tell him about Ruby.”

Ciara nods. “Right, okay. That’s a good idea.”

“I hope so,” Zayn mutters, squeezing her hand as he rushes out of the station.

<><><>

The shop Harry was told that he could find Ruby is small and discrete. He has to check the address three times before he’s sure that he has to right place; one of the times including him walking in and immediately walking back out to check the number above the door again.

It’s a small bookstore that’s probably been open for decades, neat rows of books and little knick-knacks filling the place up. He wanders aimlessly, trying to find someone that can wonder his daughter is, while he tries to understand why the police are so useless that they’d leave his daughter where she was without keeping an eye on her themselves, or without bringing her somewhere. It’s probably for the best that they didn’t but still, his daughter is lost in a small bookstore and Harry thinks she deserves someone or something looking after her. Maybe they should have left one of the police dogs with her?

“Can you help me?” Harry asks, spotting an older woman stocking a shelf closer to the back. “I believe you have a little, um. Mine.” Harry sighs, shaking his head. “I believe you have my daughter? A little girl about this high.” He waves his hand around at his side, trying to recall from memory how tall Ruby is. “She’s wearing a cat bag; it’s pretty recognizable.”

The lady smiles at Harry, as she points just beyond the row of books next to them. “She’s right over there,” she says.

“Thank you,” Harry mutters, already moving towards his daughter.

Harry rounds the shelves and has to stop when he sees his daughter. Ruby is lying on the ground, propped up on her elbow in the middle of a little reading area. There’s a soft, plush looking bed next to her where a large black cat rests, surrounded by kittens.

Harry peeks back around towards the older woman, who is still smiling at him. “She’s been there since she walked in,” she explains, “Seemed to be alone so I phoned the police and that’s when they said someone was missing her.”

“She has an internal radar that helps her find any feline in a two block radius,” Harry sighs, smiling at the shop owner. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her.”

The woman smiles and nods before turning back to her books, leaving Harry alone to approach his daughter.

“You ran off,” is the first thing that Harry says to her, hands on his hips as he looks down at her. “What have we talked about? How many times have I told you that you can’t run off from Daddy, or from your friend’s dad who is watching you while your daddy works?”

“Hi, Daddy,” Ruby greets, petting the mom cat. “Look at what I found?”

“I see that,” Harry says, kneeling down and putting his hands on his knees. “Sweetie, look at me.”

Ruby blinks up at him, in a happy cat induced haze. “What?”

“Why’d you run off?” Harry asks, watching as she shrugs, looking back down at the cat. Harry puts his finger under her chin, forcing her to look back up at him. “You ran off. You scared me, when they called me. And you probably scared Zayn, wherever he is.”

“He’s at the toy store,” Ruby says.

“Does he know where you are? Because I don’t think he does. I got a call that you were found and I didn’t even know you were missing, so I think Zayn was looking for you,” Harry explains. “We’ve talked about you running off.”

“But there was a cat.”

“There’s always cats. There’s always gonna be cats, doesn’t mean you can run off on me, or anyone else, for that matter.” Ruby sighs, like she’s about to launch into some kind of explanation as to why she should be able to find cats. Harry holds his hand up, cutting her off. “Sorry but Daddy wins this round, okay? And we need to get going, so say bye to the cat so we can get out of here.”

“No, Dad—I,” Ruby starts to protest, shaking her head and dropping down to clutch the cat tighter. Harry hears her meow and hopes that she’s not going to scratch because then Ruby is going to be weepy for the rest of the day.

The cat doesn’t scratch but Ruby kicks and screams as Harry tries to gently pry her off the cat. She protests loudly, shouting no at him and begging him to not make her leave. Harry’s getting frustrated because he has a job that he needs to get to, a job that he needs to save, and fighting with Ruby is only going to mean that he has less time to actually save his job.

“Ruby, stop,” Harry scolds, breathing out as both him and his daughter go slack. She looks up at him, blinking wetly. Harry looks at her and then down at the cats she’s sitting next to and sighs. He brushes her hair behind her ear, sitting down properly on the ground. “How about this, you tell me about these cats and then we go to my work? Okay?”

Ruby releases a shaky breath and nods. “Okay,” she mutters.

“Hey,” Harry says before she can start, tapping her on the leg until she looks back at him. “Sorry for getting angry.”

“It’s okay,” Ruby tells him. “Sorry for running off.”

Harry doesn’t say that it’s okay but he smiles at her and waits patiently as she focuses her attention back on the cats.

“This is the mom, her name is Muffin.”

“Muffin?”

“Yeah. And these are her babies. This one is Bob,” Ruby says, pointing towards a calico kitten. “And here is Sunshine,” an orange kitten with a white spot on its head. “And I named those two Harry and Daisy, like you and mom.”

Harry smiles, stroking the two black kittens that she’s pointed out. “I’m honored,” he says. “What about that one?”

“Lacey,” Ruby grunts, lifting the tiny kitten out of the basket. It’s white with a hint of grey on her ears and nose. Ruby rubs her face against the cat, grinning at Harry in pure happiness. “She’s my favorite, Daddy. She purrs so loud, can you hear it?”

“Yeah, I can hear it,” Harry assures her, scratching the kitten behind the ears. “She’s pretty, isn’t she? Maybe that nice lady in the front will let us borrow her for a little while.”

“Forever,” Ruby corrects.

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No love, just for a little while.”

“Daddy, I want to keep her.”

Harry rubs his face, motioning for Ruby to hand him the kitten. He holds her up, looking at her little soft face. She is cute and Harry’s having a hard time saying no to her, as the kitten’s eyes blink slowly shut, trying to keep awake so she can stare back at him but failing.

“I don’t know what your mom is going to think about this,” Harry sighs, knowing that he’s trapped.

“Mom hates cats, remember?”

“Yeah.”

Daisy’s gotten better about her aversion to cats since Ruby has decided she loves them so much, but Harry knows that she’ll actually kill him if he buys Ruby a kitten for her house. There are several reasons Daisy would want to kill Harry and he knows that this is near the top of the list. She doesn’t like cats, plain and simple. She can pretend they’re cute and show interest whenever Ruby talks about them but she doesn’t want one. It’s why she has that tiny yapping dog. Or had, Harry doesn’t know the pet status of his ex’s house. Ruby isn’t fond of the dog, anyway.

So keeping the cat at Daisy’s house is out of the question.

Harry knows that he can’t tell Ruby no about this. He could, but he guarantees he’ll feel awful about it. Besides, it might be nice, to have a cat. It’ll be something that brings Ruby over more often and he wants that. He wants his little girl over more than what she is.

Plus, it’ll be something to keep him company on the nights where he’s alone, waiting for Ruby to join him once more.

“Okay,” Harry decides, nodding. “She can live with me.”

“Really?” Ruby gasps, eyes wide and hopeful.

“If we can get out of here to get to my press conference, and that lovely woman in the front says yes, then, yeah. She can stay with me. Us, at my house.”

“And she can sleep in my room?”

Harry laughs, gently pulling Ruby up as he stands, kitten tucked into his elbow. “All right,” he agrees, rubbing Ruby’s back when she dives forward and hugs him, muttering her thank you’s into his stomach. “Now, go ask about the kitten.”

Ruby nods, rushing off and shouting, “excuse me,” to the older woman Harry encountered earlier. He watches her, checks the time, and takes a deep breath. If he’s lucky, he’ll make it there in time before they call the press conference over because of his absence.

The one thing he couldn’t be late for and he is.

<>

Harry grips Ruby’s hand tightly as they run towards his press conference. They’re just a few blocks away and Ruby is laughing delightfully the faster Harry runs with her, while the kitten turned in his elbow meows loudly but doesn’t fight against his grip too much.

“When we get inside, Daddy might have to leave you, but I want you to stay where I can see you, okay? Stand by the wall with Lacey and don’t go anywhere, got it?” Harry shouts, feeling relief wash over when the building comes fully into view. He can see through the doors that it’s still packed and he counts his lucky stars. “Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Ruby yells back, cheeks flushed and grin wide when Harry turns back to look at Harry. He shakes his head fondly, squeezing her hand before he pulls her forward, ushering her into the building before him.

There’s a loud murmur amongst the crowd, someone in the crowd is shouting questions. Harry can see Nick and a few of the uppers standing along the back wall, while the mayor stands at the podium, some of his men surrounding him on the other side. Several of Harry’s colleagues are in the crowd and Harry looks around trying to find a break in the crowd that he can shove himself forward, maybe pass Ruby off to Nick.

“What about the deposits?” A voice says and Harry can see the mayor grip the podium a little tighter, something flashing behind his eyes.

“What deposits?” The mayor asks, holding hand up to stop someone behind him from saying anything.

Whoever is asking the question fumbles for a moment, stuttering over his words. “Uh. From the uh…”

“If there’s anything going around about deposit slips, it is nothing more than false accusations from Harry Styles, who has manipulated words into working in his favor for the last time.”

“I know him,” the man in the crowd says, as Harry tries to catch Nick’s attention, “and sometimes he can get a little-“

“Ciara,” Ruby screams, jumping and waving her arm around in the air.

Harry follows her gaze and sees that Zayn is the one throwing out questions to the mayor. He looks confused before his entire body sags in relief, like he can’t believe he’s seeing Harry or maybe it’s Ruby since he lost her, after all.

Everyone turns to face the source of the yelling, putting all eyes on Harry as she gently nudges Ruby in Zayn’s direction, passing the cat to her. “Stay with Zayn,” he whispers. Ruby nods and rushes forward, holding Lacey out to Ciara, trying to pass her over.

Harry smiles as he passes Zayn, brushing his fingers on Zayn’s arm in greeting before he pushes through the crowd. He grins at the mayor widely, basking in the way that he swallows tensely.

Harry can see Nick roll his eyes, but he’s smiling and Harry thinks that maybe he’s happy that Harry made it on time. Because as much shit as Nick talks, he didn’t want to see Harry fired anymore than Harry wanted to be fired.

“Afternoon Mayor,” Harry says, resisting the urge to step forward and shove him out of the way of the podium so that he can get his moment in the spotlight, especially his name and reputation are on the line right now.

“Harry,” the mayor says, jaw clenching slightly.

“I had an interesting conversation with the source of my latest story, it seems you and your men have been able to manipulate him into retracting his statement, which at the same time forced my paper to consider printing a retraction on my piece,” Harry explains, elevating his voice so that most everyone in the room can hear him without the use of a microphone.

“Your paper’s credibility would have been on the line if they allowed those allegations to go through. It has nothing to do with me.”

Harry shrugs. “You wanted them to say that my allegations, and I use that term loosely, were false. It would have caused me to lose my job which is one thing, but I don’t think you were ever expecting the proof of the governor’s wife.”

Harry wants to do a dance around the room at the look on the mayor’s face, like Bellatrix Lestrange shouting in glee about how she killed Sirius Black. Harry wants everyone to know that he’s right and he’s about to bring everything crashing down around the corrupt people of the city.

The mayor doesn’t say anything, so Harry continues, “Earlier this afternoon I had lunch with Mrs. Hertz, she has provided me with proof that money has been taken out of city accounts by you and put into her husband’s personal accounts, a sort of bribe, to keep quiet. And I’m guessing based on the emails, I’m right. So, why don’t you enlighten us, Mayor?” Harry demands, enjoying the way that the people around him start to murmur about what he’s saying, saying something about making notes and if they’re getting it.

The mayor’s jaw ticks as he tries to find words and Nick is hiding a smile behind his hands, which pleases Harry because the uppers are also looking interested which might mean that he’s saved his own ass.

“I don’t know—I can assure you,” the mayor starts, his face puffing up as he starts to wave his hands around wildly, angry, “whatever deposit slips you think you were given, I am positive that—“

“Mrs. Hertz has assured me that there is proof of these allegations, proof that she will be happy to provide me with, as soon as this evening.”

Someone steps forward to speak into the mayor’s ear; their grip is tight on his arm. There’s a silent argument, the mayor’s hands coming up to cover the microphone so that no one can hear what they’re saying, but Harry’s done this enough to know that the man gripping the mayor is part of his team and is trying to get him to stop talking before he says something that he can’t take back, something that could incriminate him further.

Just as the man seems to be taking a step back, looking defeated, a huge uproar starts behind him. He turns in time to see a familiar face, the face of the very same woman that he met this afternoon. Her bodyguards are moving people out of the way as the room parts for her. It gives Harry sight of Zayn and the girls, standing in the back and watching him. Well, Zayn’s watching him, Ciara and Ruby are on the floor with the new kitten, completely unbothered by the fact people around them are going wild.

“How’s my timing?” Katherine asks, leaning in to kiss Harry’s cheek.

It’s more for press than anything else, Harry assumes, because as soon as Katherine parts from Harry, she waves at the mayor. Through the commotion of her arriving, the mayor is already leaving, his team announcing that he’s not going to be taking any further questions.

The press surrounds them quickly, wanting to know if it’s true, everything that Harry has been telling them. She confirms but doesn’t elaborate, promising that they can find out the story from Harry tomorrow.

Through the crowd, Zayn is smiling at him, shaking his head like he can’t believe Harry did it. Harry winks at him, then dives back into the conversation in front of him.

<><><>

“So, you lost my daughter?”

Zayn winces, watching Ciara and Ruby in front as they walk in front of them, giggling about the kitten in Ruby’s arms.

“I didn’t—God,” Zayn breathes out, shaking his head. “I’m so sorry. I’m _so_ sorry. She was there, you know, and then she was—She was gone. Harry, I’m so sorry.”

Harry’s smiling at him but Zayn can’t tell what he’s thinking. He can’t tell if Harry hates him, even if he’s been calm and nice since they saw each other. Zayn wants to keep apologizing, wonders if he should get down on his knees but Harry’s laughing, suddenly, and Zayn doesn’t know what that means.

“When you left Ciara with me, you had rules. You had a list of things that I needed to take care of. You wanted me to remember all these things because you were so worried about what would happen if your daughter was near me because you didn’t think I was competent enough to care for your daughter,” Harry teases, laughing and making Zayn feel incredibly dumb. “You went through all of that, and then you lose my daughter.”

“I’m sorry,” Zayn whines despite himself, wishing that he could do more. “I don’t even want to imagine what could have happened.”

Harry nods. “Yeah,” he mutters. “Neither do I.”

“It’s the worst thing that I could have done today, and I’m so, _so_ sorry. Really.”

Harry smiles once more. “So, it would seem that someone is irresponsible.”

“Yeah. That’s me.”

“I agree, but what I want to know is, are you going to admit that you need help every now and then and that you can’t do everything on your own? Are you going to admit that sometimes you’re not always right?”

Zayn scoffs because of course Harry would twist this and turn it around into some silly little game or whatever he’s doing. “No. No, I’m not because I happen to do everything for myself.”

“That is not true,” laughs Harry.

“Excuse me? You know absolutely nothing at all about what I do and don’t do.”

“You needed my help several times today, I seem to recall. You wouldn’t have made it through the day without me. And,” Harry says, raising his finger to prove his point, “you needed help finding my daughter when you lost her, so I have a hard time believing that you believe you can do everything on your own.”

“Okay, no. You do not get to throw that back into my face.”

“I’m pretty sure that when you lose my daughter, I get to throw that in your face.”

“Fine, but I was following the laws, Harry, so your argument against me for that is void.”

“Void,” Harry mutters, shaking his head. “You can’t possibly believe that’s true, it just happened.”

Harry’s still grinning and it’s completely grating against Zayn’s nerves, making him want to shove Harry. They’ve stopped walking, so he could do it and it wouldn’t do anything besides cause him to stumble a bit.

“I know it just happened, Harry. In case you’ve forgotten, I was the one running around the city and going into a police station where I’m not welcome, to report your daughter is missing, so.” Zayn stops, pausing to breathe for a moment so he can get himself together. “I feel incredibly awful and guilty for losing sight of Ruby today, more than you can imagine, so excuse me for asking you to not throw that in my face while you continue to be an insufferable ass.”

Zayn glares at him before he marches to the curb, throwing his arm in the air and shouting for a taxi. He’s so angry, so frustrated right now. This is what Harry does to him, he makes him want to scream and it’s even more frustrating because he kind of wants to shove Harry against the side of the building just so he can slip his tongue into Harry’s mouth.

Ciara and Ruby are standing a few feet away, not paying attention to Harry and Zayn. Zayn’s grateful that they’ve been paying attention some what, though, enough to stop and wait while Harry acts like an asshole.

“When have I been insufferable to you?” Harry asks, stepping in front of Zayn on the curb, blocking him from being able to see incoming traffic.

Zayn snorts. “You really want to know?” asks Zayn. And when Harry nods he says, “Well, let’s start with this morning when you didn’t call me to let you know that you would be taking Ruby to school. That took time out of my day. It also caused my daughter to be late for her field trip.”

“You cannot keep blaming me for that.”

“Then, you were showing off your career and all of your accomplishments. And let’s not forget the fact that you were talking to someone on the phone about their underwear and what they were wearing while I was trapped in that cab with you, after you made my daughter miss her field trip.”

“First of all,” says Harry, shaking his head like he can’t believe Zayn, “I didn’t flaunt my career.”

“Yes, you did,” Zayn shoots back. “Your face is in the paper, remember? Remember tossing that one out oh so casually, like anyone asked you about that?”

“Maybe,” Harry shouts, wetting his lips as he runs his fingers through his hair. He looks frustrated, taking a tiny step closer to Zayn before stepping back to where he was. “Maybe you’re the most beautiful person that I’ve ever met.”

Zayn freezes, his arm slowly dropping to his side as he blinks at Harry.

Harry stares back at him, heaving out a sigh as he rakes his fingers through his hair once more, like he’s nervous. “Maybe I did all of that for a reason. Maybe I wanted to impress you,” he says. “You’re the most beautiful person that I’ve ever met, and I wanted to impress you.”

Zayn’s stomach swoops a bit, dropping and clenching, fluttering in a way that it hasn’t in ages. Harry shrugs, taking a step back. Zayn stares at him, unable to find words. He wasn’t expecting that and he’s not sure what to make it, not sure what to say.

“At any rate,” Harry starts up again, “The only person on the phone was my boss, Nick. I just wanted to piss you off,” he admits, shrugging. “Or make you jealous, so you’d want me more. I don’t know.”

Harry looks at him and Zayn stares back, waiting for something to come to him because he has to say something. He can’t let declarations like that go. But then the girls are shouting for them as a cab approaches, forcing Harry to walk away from him.

Harry holds the door open and Zayn slides in first, pressing against the opposite door as Ciara and Ruby slide in, Ciara pressed against his side. Finally, Harry slides in, not bothering to look at Zayn as he tells the cab where to go, the park where the girls soccer game is going to be.

Zayn still doesn’t say anything as they drive, leans his head back against the seat and listens to Ruby and Ciara play with the little kitten that Ruby can’t seem to let go.

After several minutes he hears, “You know, I think my dad likes your baba.” It’s Ruby, spoken loudly like she doesn’t care that Zayn and Harry can hear.

“Well, I think Baba likes your dad back,” Ciara says, words coming out between giggles, like it’s the funniest thing in the world to her that her father has a crush. He doesn’t. It’s not…that. It’s not a crush and he doesn’t know what she’s talking about, so he wraps his arm around her, pulling her closer to him and crossing his eyes at her when she looks up at him, still laughing brightly.

Zayn lets her go and then checks his watch, cursing when he notices the time.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks, elbow resting on the ledge of the window.

“There’s a work thing,” admits Zayn, shifting in his seat. “I have to get there. I need to have drinks with these clients.”

“Zayn, you’re not going to be able to make it.”

“No, no. I can,” Zayn mutters, nodding, and he’s not sure if it’s to himself or to Harry but he leans forward anyway, telling the driver the address of where he’s supposed to meet Louis and the clients.

“Baba, my game.”

“Babes, I know. I know, okay? We’re gonna make it, I promise. There’s a really important work thing and I have to be there, okay?”

“But Baba…”

“No, no buts. I promise, okay? We’re going to be there. I promise.”

Ciara sighs and leans back, pouting. They’re going to make it, they are. Zayn’s sure of it.

<>

Zayn has to ask the cab driver if he’s sure that they’re at the right address three times, before he lets Harry shove him out of the car, Harry handing the driver a bunch of bills and telling him to please drive off immediately.

Zayn glares at him before he checks the brownstone they’ve stopped in front of on the discrete one-way street. He can see Louis through the windows, a drink in hand as he laughs about something their clients are saying. Zayn can only hope that they’ve not been long.

“They’re already in there,” says Zayn, looking in the window of the building in front of him to fix his hair a bit; it’s wild, much like the day that he’s had. “I’m going to go in and be out in five minutes. If it reaches ten, then leave without me.”

“We’re not going to leave without you,” sighs Harry, rolling his eyes. “And ten minutes is pushing it.”

“I know that. That’s why you’re going to leave after ten minutes.”

“We’re not leaving,” Harry repeats.

“Just, do what I’m asking of you, for once,” Zayn breathes out, resisting the urge to ask Harry why he has to make everything difficult. “Please.”

Harry shrugs, like maybe he’ll listen, as he takes a seat on an apartment stoop. Ruby sits next to him, tucking her cat in her lap like she really doesn’t care what they’re going to do as long as she gets to have her kitten. Ciara, however, is another story. She’s pouting at Zayn, her arms folded over her chest like she does when she’s angry. It’s one of the looks that drive him crazy because she looks just like Derek, the spitting image of him and all his angry glory.

“What is it, babes?”

“What if you and Daddy don’t make it to my game?”

“No,” Zayn tells her, shaking his head. He kneels down to her height, hands on her shoulders until she looks him in the eyes. “I’m going to be there, okay? It’s your last game. It’s the championship.”

“So?” Ciara mutters, mumbles, looking away from him to glare up at the sky.

“So, it’s important to you, and I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Okay? It’s important.”

“Not as important as your work.”

Zayn sighs, placing a finger on her cheek and forcing her to look at him. “Sweetie, that’s not true. It’s not true at all, but Baba has to do this. I know today has been awful for you, but Baba promises that this is the last thing that he’s going to make you do.”

Ciara stares at him for a moment, blinking, and Zayn’s worried that she’s not going to let him go, but then she nods, taking a step back and moving to sit down next to Harry.

“I won’t be long, I swear,” Zayn repeats, because now there are three faces staring at him like they don’t believe him. “If it feels like it’s taking too long, then just go. I’ll meet you there.”

Zayn nods once and then turns, rushing across the street so that he can get the ball rolling on this. In and out. In and out, that’s all this is going to be, nothing more.

Louis spots him when he walks through the door, calling his name and waving him over. Zayn takes a deep breath and moves towards them, hoping he doesn’t look like he’s just spent his afternoon running after two little girls and then consequently trying to find one of the little girls after he lost her.

“Sorry I’m late,” says Zayn, taking the seat next to Louis, opposite the clients.

“You’re only a drink behind,” Louis laughs, motioning towards a woman by pointing to his drink and then to Zayn. “You’ll catch up soon enough.”

“Yeah,” Zayn mumbles, wondering if he can get away with not touching the drink, though if he’s going to cut this short then maybe he will have to take that drink. “Thanks,” Zayn smiles at the woman as she sets a glass down next to him, lifting it and making a show of taking his first swallow. “So, about your buildings. I know that you’re wanting to go green and environmentally friendly, so I was thinking that, just to recap on earlier—“

“You’re all business, aren’t you?”

Zayn looks across from him in confusion. “Well, you had said…” He cuts himself off when he sees that Louis is shaking his head. “Right. Well, and again, a recap, I did some research and I found FSC wood, which means that the manufactures adhere to sustainable forestry practices. This is just in addition to reclaimed wood, which we could use if you wanted to go that route,” Zayn explains.

“Now, I know a large portion of the structure is going to have to be done in metal, to ensure safety, but I’ve found a place that uses recycled cotton materials, like old jeans, that doesn’t contain harsh chemicals for insulation. There’s also an option that can use recycled newspapers, both of which I believe will be decent replacements for traditional fiberglass insulation. Obviously there will be solar panels on the roof, along with energy efficient windows,” He explains, smiling. “I really think we can bring this to life in the way that you want.”

They nod, taking long pulls of their drinks as they consider Zayn’s words. “That’s interesting, but you know what we’re thinking. We want to create shopping complexes, massive structures like that. Commercial spaces.”

“Yeah, maybe even a shopping mall in the city.”

“That’s a good idea,” Louis chimes in. “One of our philosophies is always looking towards the future. How can we expand on what we’re doing and how can we continue to grow.”

“Exactly. We definitely agree with that, which is exactly why we wanted to get drinks tonight because there’s so much to discuss.”

“So many possibilities.”

“I was personally thinking about doing something fun, like a pizzeria. They always do well in urban settings and they’ll really attract people.”

Zayn watches the exchange, gaze snapping from one person to the next as they move the conversation on without him. He knows that his time is running out and they’ve barely scratched the surface of his designs. He needs to get out of here, if not already, and he’s too nervous to sit up a little more and peek around to see if Harry and the girls are still waiting for him.

“Zayn,” Louis mutters, pulling Zayn away from his thoughts. “Now might be a good time to toss out a few ideas.”

“Oh, right. I mean, pizzerias are always great choices, but they’re fairly exhausted at this point; you’d really have to come up with something that’d set you apart from everyone else. Or, you could install some kind of chain that’s already popular, in order to do well and give yourself a head start.”

“We’d love to see what you have in mind, like how a pizzeria should look.”

Zayn breathes out, biting back a retort about how he could do this any other time but not right now, right now they were supposed to be talking about what he was assigned to do, apartment complexes, and he doesn’t fucking care about pizzerias. But he’s not going to ruin this now; he’s so close.

Zayn smiles. “Yeah, sure.”

“Give them a rough sketch,” Louis suggests.

Zayn nods, looking around for something that he can use. He pats his chest and down to his pockets, coming up blank. “I don’t have any—“

Louis slides a pen and a napkin across the small table in front of them, giving Zayn a look that tells him not to fuck this up. Zayn smiles at him, taking the pen and clicking the end. He moves the pen around, drawing lines that don’t make any sense. He needs time to think about something like this, he can’t just do this off the top of his head. That’s why there are drafts, multiples, each one taking time and a process that doesn’t last just three seconds.

He spares a glance at his watch, checking that he’s nearly lost his time before Harry and the girls leave. It makes him even more nervous, forcing him to rub his sweating palm along his pant leg, as he glances up to check through the window.

Zayn can see Harry and the girls now, both of whom have been changed into their uniforms. Harry’s checking the time on his phone, glancing up and staring into the window at Zayn; they’re both aware that time is almost running out and that if anyone is going to make the game that they need to leave now.

Harry and the girls are laughing, as Harry tucks his phone back into his pocket, saying something to them that has the girls relaxing and enjoying themselves. Zayn stares at them, then down at the shitty sketch on the table.

“I’m so sorry,” Zayn sighs, “but I can’t do this. Not right now. This is important to me, but not as important as that little girl across the street,” he says, remembering Ciara’s words from earlier. “So, I’m sorry, but I’m going to leave, and if that affects your decision to choose me, then so be it.”

“Zayn—“ Louis starts.

“No, I’m sorry. My daughter has a game to get to and right now, it’s the most important thing in the world to her, and one of her parents needs to be there for her. Louis. Mr. Tomlinson, uh, sir, if you’re going to fire me over this, then… Well, it’s been nice working for you,” Zayn finishes, taking a deep breath before he shoves himself out of his seat, rushing towards the exit before he can do something stupid like rush back and beg for a job he’s not sure he’s lost.

<><><>

Shortly after Zayn rushes inside, Harry takes the girls to a little café down the street so they can change into their uniforms. Harry locks of the door the men’s room, leading them into the stalls so they can get dressed. He’s clutching both of their backpacks, taking their clothes as they kick them under the door.

Ciara emerges first, brushing down her hair with her hands as she hands Harry her shirt so that he can shove it in her bag. She steps towards the sink, turning on the water so she can wash her hands.

Harry can tell that she’s still upset, pouting to herself as she soaps up her hands.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks her, smiling at Ruby as she steps out, half of her shirt tucked in and hair messy.

“I don’t know,” Ciara tells him, stepping out of the way so Ruby can wash her hands.

“You know, your dad is doing everything that he can to make sure he’s going to be there,” Harry assures her. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, maybe,” she sighs.

“No, come on. Don’t worry, okay? He’s going to be there.”

“He said he would,” Ruby adds, drying her hands on Harry’s pants before she takes her bag back, shrugging it on.

“Exactly, he’ll be there.”

Ciara sighs, putting her bag on as well. “Baba might, but I don’t know about my dad.”

Harry frowns, following the two girls out of the bathroom. He smiles at the woman behind the counter, helping guide both of the girls out of the front door. Ruby has her arm around Ciara’s shoulders, looking up at Harry with a grin before they move in front of him.

“Ciara, I know I don’t know your other dad, but I’m sure he wants to come just as badly.” He sees Ciara shrug, like she’s unsure of that herself.

“I heard Baba begging him to come. I think he wants him to be there too,” she explains. “Sometimes my dad doesn’t come to stuff, but he tries to.”

“Well, that’s what important,” he says, but he feels a little more annoyed than anything, at her other dad for making promises that he can’t keep, at Zayn for going into work when his daughter is out here, nervous and worried that he won’t make it, and at himself for being annoyed that Zayn is begging his ex to come.

Harry wonders if Zayn still has feelings for Ciara’s other dad, if he embarrassed himself by telling Zayn that he was attractive and that he did all that shit to himself. It would be just his luck that Zayn is still hung on his ex, just his fucking luck.

“How many more minutes do we have?” Ruby asks, looking at Harry.

Both girls look worried, concerned that they’re going to have to leave Zayn behind to make the game. Harry’s not going to let that happen, even if he has to storm into that bar and pull Zayn out by his shirt. He’s going to make that game.

“Not many,” he says, sighing. “Hey, what do you call a pig that knows karate?”

Ciara sighs, like she knows what’s coming.

“What?” Ruby asks.

“A pork chop,” Harry answers.

Ruby laughs, delighted and amused. Ciara laughs, reluctant and exasperated. Harry’s pleased with himself, happy to know that he’s made them laugh, taking their mind off the wait. There’s still barely enough time to wait for Zayn and get to the game on time, but at least the girls aren’t worried anymore.

“How do you know if it’s been raining cats and dogs?”

“How?” Ciara asks.

“When you step in a poodle.”

<>

Harry and the girls are startled when Zayn comes rushing out of the bar, grinning at them as he runs towards them.

“I ran out,” he pants.

“What happened? How’d it go?” Harry asks, concerned because Zayn’s smile is a little unnerving at this point and he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do with it. “Are you—I mean, is it okay?”

“Yeah,” Zayn tells him, still smiling as he lifts Ciara up. “I told them that I had something very important to get to, much more important than work.” Ciara’s smiling as Zayn kisses her cheek. He turns towards Harry, looking at him like he’s holding them back. “Well, come on. We’ve only got ten minutes.”

So off they go, Harry picking up Ruby so that they can rush down the street, the kitten tucked safely in her arms as they run. The park isn’t too far off and with traffic picking up, they probably will make it there faster on foot.

“I probably just lost my job,” Zayn laughs. “You just saved yours.”

“It’ll work out.”

“My boss looked furious.”

“He’ll get over it.”

Zayn shrugs. “Maybe,” he reasons. “I’m sorry I lost Ruby earlier.”

“You can’t win every time,” Harry tells him. “And it’s okay, she likes to wander off sometimes. Plus, I forgot her at my work this morning. I went into the elevator without her.”

“See, this is why you give people lists,” Zayn laughs. “They don’t know your kids so you have to give them lists when you leave your kids with them.”

“Daddy, put me down,” Ruby says, as Harry laughs. He sets her down on the ground, taking the kitten from her and clutching her hand.

“It’s okay. And besides, even with your list, I still had a bit of an accident with Ciara.”

Zayn frowns. “What do you mean?” he asks, setting Ciara down on the ground and clutching her hand as they walk briskly through the park, cutting through the middle in hopes that they’ll make it to the field on time.

“She’s pretty clumsy, scrapped her knees pretty good outside the museum.”

“I noticed,” Zayn tells him. “Hard to hide neon colored bandages on her knees.”

Harry laughs, holding onto Lacey tighter as they begin running again. They move at the pace of the girls, doing everything they can more quickly without carrying or just dragging the girls along with them.

The park is a bit busier than it usually is, with people heading towards home and spending time with their kids after work. They have to weave through people, moving quickly. There’s a little boy on Ruby’s team, him and his mother moving just as quickly as they are, a few yards away. It makes Harry wonder how he’s never noticed Zayn was another parent on the team.

Daisy might have been right about his observational skills being shit.

The path they’re walking on opens up a bit, circling around a fountain that Ruby always tells him looks like a pineapple. It branches off in four different directions, taking off to different areas of the park. The soccer fields are straight, straight through a bunch of puddles from the rain earlier.

The girls run straight through the puddles, laughing as they go. To his left, Zayn looks stricken.

“Ciara, you’re going to get your feet soaked. You’ll get sick,” he shouts, wincing when Ciara jumps into a puddle, sending water splashing in a ring around her. “Oh, god.”

Harry laughs. “Come on,” he mutters, sliding over and behind Zayn, wrapping his arms around him and guiding him into the puddles.

Zayn shouts a protest, gripping Harry’s hands around his waist as they move, stepping into and around the puddles as best as they can. They’re not very deep, not enough that Harry has to worry about water leaking into his shoes and ruining his socks, except when he stomps carefully into one so that it splashes Zayn, who pinches Harry’s arm. He’s laughing, though, so Harry smiles, dipping his chin over Zayn’s shoulder as he guides him through the puddles.

“All right, come on,” Zayn tells, tapping Harry’s hands. “We’ve got a game to get to.”

The teams are still warming up on the field when they get there, each on one side kicking the ball into the goal. Harry breathes a sigh of relief, silently agreeing to Zayn whispered ‘thank god’ from next to him.

They’re moving quietly to the field when Ciara shrieks, at an almost deafening volume, “Daddy!”

She takes off running, as fast as she can go. Harry sees her stop in front of someone, diving into their arms and shrieking once more, loud enough for him to hear it across the field.

He’s tall, wearing dark jeans and a white shirt. He looks just like Ciara, tanned skin and dark curly hair that’s pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck. His arms are tattooed and he’s wearing thick, black boots on his feet.

Harry kind of hates him.

Next to him, Zayn is smiling, his excitement at seeing Ciara’s dad clear as day. It unnerves Harry, how much it annoys him to see Zayn smiling about this. He gets it, he does. Ciara had been worried about this all day, but.

But still. There’s something in Harry that tells him that maybe Zayn’s excitement means more. Maybe he’s excited less for Ciara and more for himself, like he was hoping to see her dad. Maybe Zayn’s excited because he still has feelings for him.

Harry really hates him.

“Daddy, take my bag,” Ruby says, already tossing the thing at Harry before she rushes off towards the field.

Harry tosses the bag over his shoulder, fixing his grip on Lacey as he does so. He rolls his eyes at Zayn, until he looks over at Harry and then he smiles.

“We made it,” Zayn says, laughing lightly. “Just barely, by the looks of it.”

“That’s still making it,” Harry replies.

Zayn nods, breathing out slowly. “After everything that’s gone wrong today, it’s hard to believe.”

“Not that hard, we ran here, after all,” Harry jokes, making Zayn laugh. “Plus, we found a way to make everything work today.”

“That we did.” Zayn’s still smiles at him for a beat before he turns away; he’s squinting at the soccer field, thinking. “Do you and Ruby want to come over after this? For dinner?”

Harry almost hates Zayn for asking him that. He really does. Because it might just be the best thing that he’s ever heard, that he’s ever been asked, but the last thing he wants to do is watch Zayn with his ex. The ex that he obviously still has feelings for, the same one that’s watching them just a few yards away, holding Ciara’s bag and looking at Harry like he doesn’t belong next to Zayn.

“No, I think—“ Harry sighs and shakes his head. “No, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

“Okay.”

Zayn claps his hands together, breathing out harshly. “Well, I should go say hi to Ciara’s dad, I guess,” he says.

“I should go to Ruby. I like to watch the games over there.” Harry points towards the other side of the field, next to the line of trees that keep him at the edge, hidden in the corner.

“Oh,” Zayn mutters, blinking for a second like he’s just realizing something. “You’re the dad that likes to shout at the coaches.”

Harry grins. “That’s me.”

“Explains a lot,” Zayn says and the way he says it makes Harry wonder if he should be offended or not. He settles on not, since he’s already so offended that Zayn is in love with his ex and not in anything with him. “Anyway, I’ll see you around, Harry.”

“Yeah,” Harry mutters, waving towards Zayn. He breathes out as Zayn walks away, feeling a bit like an idiot standing by himself with a cat bag and a kitten in his hands.

Harry keeps his eyes on Zayn as he moves towards his preferred spot. Ciara’s dad greets him with a hug, keeping his hands on Zayn as they talk about something. He can’t see Zayn’s face, but he’s probably happy, too.

And it’s just Harry. Just Harry and the kitten that he owns because he bribes his own daughter.

“Daddy,” Ruby shouts, running up towards him. “The game’s about to start.”

“I know,” he tells her, brushing some of the hair out of her eyes. “I’m going to go stand over there, by the trees.”

“You’re not allowed to stand near the coach,” Ruby tells him, smiling like she’s entirely thrilled with this ban.

“I know,” he mutters, poking her. “Hey, if any of those kids get rough with you, then you get rough back.”

“That’s against the rules.”

“Whose rules?”

“The games,” Ruby sighs, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, please,” he says. “They’re not against my rules. Besides, that’s sports.” When Ruby gives a look that looks exactly like Daisy, Harry sighs. “Fine, just don’t let them be mean to you.”

“Daddy, you’re weird,” she says, smiling at him. She tugs on his shirt until he bends, kissing him and the kitten before she runs back towards her game.

Harry shakes his head as she goes. He spares Zayn one last glance before he walks off, wishing he brought some kind of chair with him so he can sit and just relax for once today.

<><><>

Zayn waves when Ciara runs by again, grinning at them and trying to get their attention as she kicks the ball down the field. She’s happy, so happy that Derek showed up. Zayn can’t blame her; he’s thrilled that something has worked out for her today.

“You didn’t seem very happy to see me,” Derek says, nudging Zayn with his elbow.

Zayn shakes his head. “I was happy to see you. I’m really grateful that you made it today,” he says. “Ciara’s been looking forward to this all day. She was worried about it.”

“I could tell,” Derek says. “I’ve missed her.”

“Wouldn’t miss her if you were around more,” Zayn informs him, shrugging when Derek looks at him. “It’s true.”

Derek sighs. “Yeah, I know. I’m working on trying to get to that point in my life.”

“The point where you can see your daughter?” Zayn snorts, rolling his eyes. “I think the day we decided to use a surrogate should have started that time in your life, but okay. I guess.”

“Are we really going to fight about this?” Derek asks, squinting at Zayn. “I always want to see her, but moving around on the road with me isn’t what she needs. I’m trying to settle, to get to the point where I can take time off without my name dissolving into nothing.”

Zayn ignores him, shouting a cheer out for Ciara when she takes the ball. It’s a mess of kids, all crowded together as they try to figure out how to get the ball out of their huddle.

“Who was that guy you were with?” Derek asks, breaking their silence.

Zayn turns to look at him, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the look on Derek’s face, expectant, like he deserves any kind of answers about Zayn’s life.

“He’s the dad of a girl on the team.”

“Obviously, but who is he?”

“The dad of a girl on the team,” Zayn repeats. “What exactly are you asking for?”

“Looked like he was into you.”

“Jesus,” Zayn breathes, shaking his head. “You know what, I wasn’t thrilled to see you when I arrived,” he admits. “This is the second game that you’ve been to all season.”

“You just said you were grateful that I came,” Derek points out. “Besides, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“I guess,” Zayn mutters. “Doesn’t mean that I have to come running into your arms because of it.”

Derek laughs at that and Zayn’s struck with the thought that he wishes Ciara didn’t look so much like Derek so he could hate him properly, so he could hate him like he wants to. But he doesn't, of course he doesn’t, but that doesn’t mean he has to like him any.

“Come on, let’s go sit on the bleachers,” Zayn decides, moving away from Derek with his arms folded over his chest, watching the game instead of where he’s going as he moves.

They find a seat on the front bench, forcing Derek’s knees to bend funnily. Zayn stretches his out in front of him, clapping when someone scores a goal. He has no idea who, if it was even their team, but he’s clapping anyway.

“Hey,” Derek mumbles, knocking his legs against Zayn’s. “You still mad at me?”

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Good, because I need you to talk to Ciara for me.”

Zayn stops, turning look at Derek, praying that whatever his face is doing is going to make Derek regret his life, every single thing about it besides the little girl out on the field.

“Why?”

Derek wets his lips, looking at Zayn, searching his face for something. He looks torn, like he doesn’t want to say what he has to say, and Zayn knows that it’s going to ruin his day entirely, ruin several for Ciara, he’s sure.

“I’m touring this summer, through Asia and Australia, parts of Europe and the U.S. I’m opening for someone,” he explains. “It’ll start in May and end in October, with how many dates that I’m on. Obviously there will be a little bit of time off during this time, but not enough for—“

“For you to take her somewhere this summer,” Zayn finishes, clenching his jaw.

Zayn wants to scream at him, wants to cause a scene in the middle of this game, because of course. Of course Derek is doing this to him, of course Derek is only here to deliver bad news to break their daughter’s heart once again.

“It’s going to be an amazing opportunity, Zayn. I have to do this. I know it’s awful timing and I know that you probably hate me right now, Ciara probably will too, but this is going to be worth it, I promise,” Derek explains, his hand wrapping around Zayn’s arm as he tries to get Zayn to look at him.

Zayn ignores him as he continues to explain why he’s doing this. Instead, he focuses solely on the game, staring ahead and watching even though Ciara is taking a break on the bench, sipping on the sports drink that their coach provides them each game. Ruby’s out on the field though, running the ball towards the goal.

Harry is going wild on the sidelines, jumping and screaming, looking every bit like an idiot with a kitten in his arms as he does so. Zayn can’t help but smile about it, because Harry will never be anything less than ridiculous. But, on the other hand, Zayn feels something in gut, this pang of something that leaves him feeling upset.

Harry called him beautiful and then rejected his invitation to dinner. Zayn’s not sure what that’s supposed to mean.

<>

Ciara practically bounces as they move towards the snack pavilion after her game. The rain has started up again, a steady drizzle that leaves Zayn’s hair damp and clinging to his forehead.

Zayn keeps his hand on her shoulder, helping steer her as she verbally recounts the game that they just watched. Derek is holding her hand, smiling at her. Zayn’s still angry with him from earlier but their daughter is happy and he’s not going to let his own emotions crush that.

“And then, Sonya kicked the ball in and we won,” Ciara cheers, shaking Derek’s hand.

“Don’t forget the goal you scored,” Derek reminds her.

“Of course not,” she agrees. “But Baba always says that we’re a team, so we have to be happy for everyone.”

“Baba’s very smart, isn’t he?” Derek says, smiling at him.

Zayn smiles back, tight and closed-lipped. “I think this once we can call you the star player,” he teases, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead once they reach the pavilion.

The area is crowded, both teams waiting for their trophies. Zayn guides Ciara towards her line, stepping back to get a picture of her, grinning widely with a hand on her hip. He takes another with Derek kneeling next to her, for her, then Derek takes one of them, before all three of them smash their faces together. Ciara claims that’s her favorite before she wraps herself around Zayn’s waist, head resting on his stomach while they wait.

The girls move to stand along the wall, taking a group shot after they’ve been given their trophies. Ciara stands next to Ruby, arms intertwined as they smile. Zayn sneaks his own picture of the two of them, happy that at least today has brought Ciara a friend.

“Hey, you did a great job, Ciara,” Harry says, guiding Ruby past them.

“Thanks, Harry,” she replies, grinning at him.

“Well, we’ll see you guys,” he says, waving.

“Thanks for everything today,” Zayn tells him, sincere and grateful.

Harry smiles, pleased and amused. “You too,” he says, waving one last time before he puts his hand into Ruby’s, leading her away, the tiny kitten still tucked under his arm.

Zayn stares after them, frowning as he watches Harry leave. He wishes there were something that he could do, something he could say to make Harry change his mind about dinner.

For some reason, Zayn doesn’t feel like he’s finished with Harry.

But, as it is, this isn’t the time or place for that. They’re surrounded by kids and their parents, collecting trophies from the soccer game that their own kids just played in, and it’d be inappropriate to make some kind of desperate declaration and plea for Harry to not go home just yet, no matter how frustratingly annoying he is.

Derek’s giving him a look when he turns to look at him, like he’s trying figure out just who Harry is. Zayn shrugs, because it’s none of his business who Harry is, before he looks down at where Ciara is tugging on his shirt and showing off her trophy.

“It’s wonderful,” he tells her, taking it from her to examine it. “We’ll have to find a place to put this, some place we can show it off, yeah?”

“Yeah! On the table in the living room, maybe? Everyone will have to see it if they want to watch TV.”

“Hmm, maybe some place that won’t interrupt the TV,” he says. “But we can keep it there for a little while, or maybe we can put it next to the TV, or above the fireplace.”

“Oh, that’s a good spot,” Ciara agrees, taking the trophy back. “What do you think, Daddy?”

“I think that sounds great,” Derek says, shoving his phone back in his pocket. “You’ll send me a picture where you put it, right?”

Ciara frowns, cocking her head to the side. “You’re not coming home with us?”

“Oh no, baby, I have to go, actually,” Derek admits, kneeling down in front of her. “I wish I could, though.”

Ciara sighs, nodding as she steps into his arms, resting her head on his shoulder. Zayn resists the urge to flick Derek in the ear. He didn’t exactly plan on having him come back to his place, but if it’s what Ciara wants, he would have been willing to compromise and suggest they go out somewhere instead.

They watch Derek leave together, shirt darkening from the rain the further away he gets. He’s not in any rush, never is.

“Come on,” Zayn mutters, pulling Ciara’s raincoat out of her backpack and wrapping her up in it. “There, now you won’t get all wet.”

“I like getting wet,” she tells him. “I liked jumping in the puddles earlier.”

“Yeah, me too,” Zayn proclaims, grabbing her hand and leading her home. “What do you want for dinner? Anything and I’ll get it.”

“Pizza,” Ciara says, nodding decisively, the word coming out so quickly that Zayn knows she’s thought about this so much that she didn’t need to think right now.

“You’ve had a lot of junk today,” Zayn announces, watching as she sighs, “But,” he adds on quickly, “you played so well, were so wonderful as I dragged you around the city today, that you’re getting pizza.”

Ciara cheers, throwing their clasped hands in the air as she does it. Zayn laughs and cheers with her, tossing his other hand up as they walk home.

<><><>

“All right, what are we wearing?” Harry asks, holding up a yellow sleep dress with flowers over the surface and a teal set with a picture of Elsa on it.

Harry shakes them both, trying to help Ruby as she stares thoughtfully at the pair of them. She points towards the pair with Elsa, grinning when Harry sighs, tossing them at her so she can get dressed.

“Where’s Lacey going to sleep?” asks Ruby, head caught in her sleep shirt. Her head pokes out and she looks at Harry like he should have answered immediately instead of waiting three seconds.

“She’ll sleep wherever she wants. Isn’t that what cats do?”

“No,” Ruby informs him, shaking her head. “She needs a bed, like me.”

Harry snorts. “Daddy’s not buying a bed for a cat. Not one like yours, at least.”

“Daddy, you’re being ridiculous. You should have bought it when we got the litter box.”

Harry stares at her, brow raised as she steps into her pants, pulling them up quickly. Parts of her shirt are still tucked into her pants, which are crooked, the seam hitting the side of her thigh. Harry helps her out, pulling her shirt out and twisting her pants so they’re right.

“What do you suggest we do, then?” He asks.

They manage to find a box in Harry’s closet, filled with old newspapers that Ruby dumps on the ground with a grin, stepping over them as she races towards her bedroom. They use her old sheets from when she was a toddler, all of them old and worn, no longer fitting on her bed.

Lacey snuggles into the box easily, blinking at them as Ruby scratches behind her ears.

Ruby looks tired as well, even though it’s too early to put her to bed just yet. But, as long days go, Harry thinks that Ruby has had the longest day. He should do something right by her, should put her to bed now and let this long, drawn out day end for the both of them.

“You ready for bed?” Harry asks, watching as Ruby gives one of her stuffed animals to the kitten, nodding in satisfaction when the kitten cuddles around it.

Ruby looks up at him afterwards, nodding, and stepping up onto her bed. Harry lets her tuck herself in, curling under the blankets and smiling up at him.

Harry leans down and kisses her head, brushing the hair off her forehead. It’s nice to have her here, even if this morning he was saying that he couldn’t take her. It makes something twist in him, the realization that he doesn’t get to experience this as often as he’d like, his daughter in his apartment, settled into the tiny room that he’s made for her.

It’s not an ideal situation, making this beautiful little girl with someone he once loved and then losing time with her, only getting her every once in awhile instead of nearly every moment like Daisy gets. Maybe he can work something out, talk to Daisy once she gets back about taking Ruby after school more often, taking her on weekend trips to place that she wants to go, and get her for days like he’s had today, days where they can make memories that’ll stay with Ruby for the rest of her life.

“You have sweet dreams, love,” Harry says, kissing her forehead once more before he reaches for the lights.

“Daddy, did you know that Zayn asked me if that guy was your boyfriend?” Ruby asks, causing Harry to still. “The one that was doing the voice.”

“Liam?” He mutters carefully, letting his hand fall away from the lamp.

“Yeah, Liam.”

“When did he ask that?”

“When you were talking to all those people, after we got Lacey,” Ruby informs him, rolling onto her side to look at him.

Harry considers this for a moment, unsure of what he should do with this information. “He really asked you that?”

Ruby nods, tucking her hands under the pillow. “Yeah,” she says. “He really likes you a lot.”

“Huh,” Harry mutters, staring down at his daughter. “You need some sleep.”

Harry shuts the light off, moving out of Ruby’s room in what feels like slow motion, like his legs are dragging through molasses. Zayn asked if he was dating Liam. He asked his daughter that, about his relationship status, and that’s—Huh.

“Did he tell you that?” Harry asks, turning around to stick his head back into Ruby’s room.

Ruby sits up, blinking at him. “Tell me what?”

“Did he tell you that he really likes me?”

Ruby huffs. “Daddy, please. It’s so obvious.”

“It’s not… It’s not obvious,” he mumbles, tugging self-consciously at his shirt. “Do you really think so?”

“Don’t be blind, Daddy.”

“Right,” Harry nods, wetting his lips. “Okay. Well, good night.”

Ruby sighs, lying back down and curling up once more. “Night, Daddy.”

Harry moves to take a step out of the room, turning back almost immediately because Zayn likes him?

“Did he mention me at any other point?”

Ruby groans, slapping the bed and sitting up to glare at him. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay,” Harry nods because that’s fine; it’s something, at least. “Good night for real this time,” he says, walking out of her room and closing the door behind himself this time.

Zayn likes him, Harry thinks with a huff, dropping down on his couch. Maybe. Zayn was at least curious enough about Harry’s relationship status to ask his daughter, and that means something. Harry’s not entirely sure what, but he knows that it’s important.

Zayn likes him and Harry denied him dinner, Harry denied him more time together. That leaves a bad taste in his mouth, that he might have possibly, definitely rejected Zayn unknowingly.

Maybe Harry was wrong about Ciara’s dad and Zayn’s feelings for him. They didn’t leave the game together and after the game, Zayn didn’t seem nearly as happy about Ciara’s dad being there. Harry had noticed them a few times during the game, noticed the way Ciara’s dad would say something and Zayn would get this carefully controlled neutral expression on his face.

“Come on,” Harry mutters, rushing back into Ruby’s room. He flicks the lights on and she stares up at him, confused. “We’re going to see Ciara’s daddy again. You know where she lives?”

“Her Baba, and yeah,” Ruby says, sitting up and looking at Harry like she’s worried for him as he rushes around her room and starts gathering her things, a pair of shoes and socks, a jacket to wear over her pajamas since the air feels a little chilly blowing in through her window.

“Daddy, I’m in my pajamas.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he tells her, sitting on her bed and grabbing her feet to get her ready. “We’re going to see them.”

“Is this because he likes you?”

Harry laughs and nods, shrugging when Ruby sighs.

<>

“Should you get him some flowers?” Ruby asks, clutching at Harry’s hand as they near Zayn’s building, which is actually Daisy’s building and Harry can’t thank the universe enough that she’s not home right not to witness any of this.

“I think flowers might be a bit much,” Harry reasons, using the key Daisy gave him to get into the building. And that’s probably hugely inappropriate but Harry clearly is here to embarrass himself, so why not start as soon as he walks in the door? “He doesn’t know we’re coming, I think flowers might scare him.”

“I think he might be scared, anyway,” Ruby decides, pushing the button for the elevator. “He’s probably in his pajamas, too.”

“Then, act like you’re here for sleeping or something.”

“Why are we here?”

Harry sighs and shrugs. “I don’t know,” he admits. “Maybe we should go back home.”

Ruby is looking at him thoughtfully, head titled to the side as she considers him. “Do you like Zayn?”

“Maybe.”

Ruby nods. “Then you should have gotten him flowers,” she says, tugging him out of the elevator when it opens. They move past Daisy’s door, turning around a corner where there’s a door tucked into it’s own little hallway, no other doors around it. “That’s it.”

Harry nods and breathes out, looking at Ruby and then at the door and then back to Ruby. She’s giving him a look that makes her look like Daisy does when she wants Harry to do something, like she’s going to make him do it if he doesn’t go and knock on the door right now.

Zayn looks surprised to see them when the door swings open. He’s wearing thin pants, soft cotton that’s worn with wear, and a long sleeved shirt. His feet are bare, and he looks so soft and warm that Harry can’t help but smile, feeling overdressed in his work clothes from earlier.

“Who is it, Baba?” Ciara asks, peeking her head around Zayn’s legs. She’s wearing a pink nightdress, and she smiles when she sees them, her hair pulled up into a poofy bun on her head. “Hi, Ruby.”

“Hi,” Harry greets, looking at Ciara and then towards Zayn. “We were—Ruby wanted to, well. Um. Hi.”

“Do you want to come in?” Zayn asks, slowly and carefully, stepping back to pull the door open.

“Oh, no. We shouldn’t,” Harry says, nodding as he takes Ruby’s hand again. He doesn’t remember dropping it but he needs to hold onto it now, because in about three seconds he’s going to run off and sprint towards the elevators and he’ll need to make sure she’s with him when he does that.

“Daddy,” Ruby says, tugging on his hand and looking at him, a warning in her eyes. “Come on, Daddy.”

“Yeah, come on,” Zayn laughs.

“Oh, okay. Sure,” he agrees easily, even though he’s nervous and he can feel himself losing the nerve to actually be here. He thinks he’ll definitely flee when Zayn asks how he got into the building.

Ruby tugs on his hand, motioning for him to lean down. When he does, she cups a hand around his ear and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll help.”

Harry laughs, kissing her cheek and letting her pull him through the apartment. She lets go of his hand and pushes him towards where Zayn is the kitchen, motioning for him to go.

“Hey, Ruby do you want to come see my room?”

“Yeah,” Ruby cheers, racing after Ciara into an open door. Harry can see pale purple walls and a framed picture of all the Disney princesses, the end of a bed, and a chair that looks like a stuffed Olaf. Ruby dives into it, tossing her jacket on the floor before she does it.

So much for being willing to help Harry out, he thinks, shaking his head.

Zayn’s fiddling with something in the kitchen, pulling two mugs out of the cabinet and working with his back towards Harry. Harry takes his time looking around, taking in the soft, plush couch with papers scattered across the table in front of it, drafts of projects that Zayn has going on.

There’s pictures lined on the walls, drawings of Ciara’s, and little knick-knacks through the house. There’s a row of little Disney figurines on a small desk shoved in the corner, Minnie and Mickey sitting next to Tiana and Cinderella. It’s nothing like Harry expected.

“Your place isn’t nearly as sterile as I thought it would be.”

Zayn snorts, turning around to face him as Harry steps into the kitchen. “That’s very funny of you.”

“I try,” Harry admits, thumbing over a picture of a baby Ciara, messy curls up all over as she gives a gummy grin to the camera, two little bottom teeth on display.

There are shrieks of delight from Ciara’s room before the sound of feet running across the hardwood.

“Baba,” Ciara shouts, colliding into him, “Can we watch a movie?”

“I don’t know, babes.”

“Baba, please. We want to watch Moana.”

Zayn smiles at her before looking to Harry for an answer. Harry shrugs, because why not?

“Okay,” Zayn says. “You can lie in my bed and watch it while we…talk.” He looks at Harry as he says it, a question in his eyes and in his words because he still doesn’t know what Harry’s doing there.

Harry’s not even sure, really. He just knows that it felt right to be here now, to come see Zayn before Zayn can have anymore time to think about how or why Harry said no about dinner. Though, by the looks of the pizza box on the counter, they should have had dinner together, since they both had pizza.

There’s a brief moment of panic that maybe Harry should have taken time to actually think about what he’s doing before Zayn comes back. He could just grab Ruby and do this again another day, another morning when he’s dropping Ruby off, another afternoon when he’s picking Ruby up, another day when both of their lives go to complete shit.

Zayn smiles when he enters the room again, nervous and curious. Harry feels an annoying flutter somewhere in his stomach, right in his ribs, and the flutter is enough to help him work up the nerve to talk to Zayn.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Harry says, taking the mug from Zayn when he holds it out towards him.

“Sure.”

“What’s the deal with Ciara’s dad?” He motions up towards some of the pictures of him on the fridge, they’re all with Ciara, but still. He’s there, smiling condescendingly at Harry.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Zayn says, confused. “What’s his deal with what?”

“I don’t know. Ciara says that he’s a singer.”

“He is.”

“She says he travels a lot, so she doesn’t get to see him often.”

Zayn nods slowly, taking a sip of his coffee. “He does, yes.”

“But he was at her game tonight,” Harry says, wondering where he’s going himself with this.

“Out of the two of us, I feel like I should be the one that’s shocked.”

“I’m not shocked, I’m just curious,” Harry admits.

“Curious about my ex?” asks Zayn, looking at Harry skeptically. “Why? You don’t even know him.”

“I guess I’m just wondering why you spent all day flirting with me when you want to get back together with him, Ciara’s dad.”

Zayn snorts, rolling his eyes. “You were flirting,” he says, “I was restraining myself so I wouldn’t snap your neck.”

“That is not true.”

“Yes, it is,” Zayn laughs. “Besides, you’re the one who told the girls that you had feelings for me and wanted to go out.”

Harry looks at Zayn, unsure if he should be concerned because Zayn is clearly making things up in his head about him, or flattered that Zayn is making things up in his head about him.

“I never said that,” Harry tells him.

“Yes, you did. You told the girls that. That was your big secret. The one that they were supposed to keep from me all day, which they obviously failed at, since I know about your feelings.”

“No,” Harry says slowly, shaking his head. “Our big secret was that Ciara hurt herself and I had to use her first aid kit to clean her up.”

“The neon pink bandages on her knees were supposed to be a secret? Like I won’t notice neon pink against my daughter’s skin at all during the day. Right.”

“It was. I didn’t want to hear you flip out on me for it,” Harry says. “I never once thought about asking you to go anywhere.”

Zayn snorts. “I’m sure that’s true.”

“It is,” Harry cries. “And I don’t know what would make you think I’d want to go out with you, anyway.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Zayn mutters, waving his hands around in a show of trying to think, “Maybe because you said that I was the most beautiful person you’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, well,” Harry says, shrugging, “It was obviously a lie. It was a line, that’s all.”

“Bullshit.” Harry thinks that Zayn might actually be angry with this. “Bullshit that was some fucking line, you fucking asshole. It’s true and you know it. You meant it and you know it. You wanted me since the first time you looked at me,” Zayn says, setting his mug down and taking a step closer to Harry, getting into his space.

Harry looks at Zayn, staring into his hazel eyes and the fire behind them as he blindly sets his mug down as well. “You wanted me too, though. Maybe not the first moment you looked at me, but since the drop in. I saw the look in your eyes before you got pissed at me for telling Ruby to kick boys that are mean to them.”

“Pretty observant for someone who doesn’t give a shit about me.”

“Yeah, well, what can I say?”

“I don’t know, what can you say?”

Harry breathes out slowly, looking from Zayn’s eyes to his lips, wetting his own as his stomach clenches pleasantly. Zayn’s beautiful when he’s angry, even more so than he is any other time, and Harry just…wants him.

“What would you do if I kissed you?” Harry asks, taking a step forward and pressing Zayn back into the counter, his hand resting on his hip.

“You wouldn’t kiss me,” Zayn challenges because he can’t ever just accept anything that Harry is trying to give him, because he has to be a pain in the ass even when Harry wants to shove his hands down his pants.

“Think I would, actually.”

“Do you want to?” Zayn asks, and there’s something in his voice that makes Harry pause, makes Harry really look at him.

Harry nods. “Yeah, wouldn’t mention it if I didn’t want to.”

This time Zayn breathes out, bringing his hands to Harry’s shoulders. “You know, I’m terrified of you.” Harry’s eyebrows rise at that, looking at Zayn curiously. “I’m scare of getting close to you. You terrify me because I know that I could make it work with you. Just a day together, but I can feel it.”

The corners of Harry’s lip curl; he raises a hand up and slides it along Zayn’s jaw. “You’re not the only one,” he says, and then he’s leaning in, slowly at first, trying to see how Zayn is going to respond.

Zayn is the one who presses their lips together, sliding his hand up to curl around the back of Harry’s neck, pulling him closer. Their mouths work together, soft and slow, slightly open-mouthed until Harry tilts their faces the right way, slipping his tongue into Zayn’s mouth. They kiss to the faint sounds of The Rock singing _You’re Welcome_ and Harry laughs into it, pushing his hand on Zayn’s hip under his shirt, palm flat against Zayn’s spine.

It feels like what Harry had been waiting for all day, to feel Zayn close to, their bodies pressed flush as Zayn goes up on his toes and curls himself around Harry, pulling him in like he needs to, like he’s been wanting this as much as Harry has.

“This is all we can do, you know,” Zayn tells him, nipping at Harry’s bottom lip. “Our daughters are—“

“I know,” Harry answers, not adding that making out in the next room is probably a foolish thing to do because the girls are definitely awake and not going to fall asleep until Moana is over, at least Ruby won’t, Harry’s not sure how Ciara handles movies.

“Could still take this in the next room,” Zayn mumbles between kisses. “The counter is digging into my back.”

Harry laughs, taking a step back and pulling Zayn with him, letting Zayn walk him backwards through the apartment until his knees hit the back the of couch and Harry falls on it, tugging Zayn down on top of him. The couch is as soft as he thought it was, but Harry doesn’t spare it a thought when Zayn straddles his lap and is kissing him again, pressing the weight of his body down on top of Harry.

“You’re much less annoying like this,” Zayn jokes, nipping at Harry’s jaw, looking at him with sparkling eyes.

Harry nips at Zayn’s chin in retaliation before he kisses him again, muttering, “The stick up your ass is less noticeable like this.”

“Next time we spend the day together, let’s just do this,” Zayn decides, before he presses his mouth back to Harry’s, tongue pushing it to stop Harry from saying anything in response.

Harry doesn’t really want to talk; they’ve done enough of that today. Instead, he pushes up, gently getting Zayn on his back so he can kiss him this way, lying down on top of him with his hands under Zayn’s shirt, relishing in the flips and twists of his stomach.

For the first time today, Harry’s ecstatic that Ruby didn’t make her field trip on time.

<><><><><>

Ciara blinks when the credits of Moana start, eyes heavy. She could fall asleep, here in Zayn’s bed, warm and content, all she’d have to do is close her eyes and count to ten.

Next to her though, Ruby sighs, kicking out of the blankets, startling Ciara.

“What are you doing?” Ciara asks.

Ruby shrugs. “Where’s my dad?”

“I don’t know,” Ciara admits. It’s been a while since anyone has come to check on them, or since they heard their voices talking in the kitchen. Baba usually says something when he comes to check on her, or she sees him, at least. “Come on, let’s go look,” she says, jumping down.

Ruby follows after her, catching up with her so they’re walking side by side. It’s quiet, but all the lights are still on and Ciara’s confused and slightly scared as they navigate around the apartment, checking in her bedroom, flicking on the light and seeing nothing before flicking it off.

The kitchen is empty and Ruby shuts the lights off when they leave, some kind of marker to let them know that they’ve checked there. Ciara is just about to panic, can feel the bubble of it in her chest and behind her eyes before Ruby grabs her arm, pointing towards the couch.

Ciara stands on her toes, looking over the back of it and laughing.

Harry and Baba are lying on it, Baba’s arm hanging off the side of the couch. Harry is draped over Baba, face shoved into his shoulder as he lets out a loud snore.

Ruby and Ciara both giggle, hiding the sound behind their hands as they drop down behind the couch.

“I bet they were kissing,” Ruby giggles, eyes wetting with tears like it’s the funniest thing that she can think to say.

And it is, Ciara squeals at the thought, falling into Ruby as she laughs about it. It’d be the grossest thing ever.

“What should we do?” asks Ruby, standing up and looking over the couch again.

Ciara shrugs, leaning against the back of the couch. “They’re sleeping.”

“I know. Come on,” Ruby motions for Ciara to follow her, moving in the direction of Baba’s room.

Ruby turns the light off as they go, forcing the two of them to run full speed into Baba’s room where there’s still light, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the bedroom as they jump onto the bed.

“I don’t think I’m leaving anymore,” Ruby says, sliding back under the blankets. “Daddy didn’t say we were going to sleep here.”

“That’s okay. Baba’s bed is big enough to share,” Ciara decides, finding the remote and hitting the buttons that she knows turns down the volume. If Baba were here, she wouldn’t have to worry about the dark, but he’s not, so she needs the TV to be on to sleep, even if she’s not going to watch it.

Ciara curls under the blankets, pulling her knees up as she rolls onto her side, one hand under the blankets. “Ruby,” she whispers, “I’m glad that my baba likes your dad.”

“Yeah,” Ruby sighs, “I’m glad my daddy likes your baba, too.”

Ciara smiles as she closes her eyes, listening to the soft sounds of Ruby rustling next to her and Harry’s snores from the next room, letting the sounds guide her to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know your thoughts! You can find me on [tumblr](http://zarryzouis.tumblr.com/)!


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